When I Faltered
by sable-fahndu
Summary: Pretty Lady of Lindblum she had played her part well. Hilda's account as a prisoner of a young, wily mage by the name of Kuja. KujaHilda.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own FF IX.

A/N: This is my first FF IX fic. I've loved Kuja for years now, and it's about time I wrote a fic about him.

**Chapter One: **_What Thy Eye's Have Seen_

_" What thy eye's have seen, _

_He brought a rose and promised shining petals._

_They bled and wept, the wind did take,  
A pretty hand does patiently wait. " _

It resounded off the walls; echoing, refracting, frightening was the sound as her ears proclaimed it. The screaming; endless, continous, and so fargone within it's maddness that she couldn't breath and wondered where her mind settled upon the plane of sanity and how she wished so very much that the cries would stop and she could think properly and her heart would stop racing and...and..and-...She recognized the voice as her own and immediately ceased the screaming.

And she woke up.

The glare of the sun shining through the prismed dome caused her to wince and hold her eye's shut tight for a few spare moments before she chanced another open. And when she did, she was better prepared and it didn't offend much. She sighed, trying to feel the softness of the grand bed, the clamness of the early morning, and the warmth from the sun and of the blankets before she recalled where she was.

And she rememered.

Silver hair. Large scare-crow hats. A guardless deck. Feathers. Purple and gold prisms. Oceanic-jade eye's.

She was here. Kuja. The Desert Palace.

She closed her eye's. " I'm...so very tired, " she thought wearily, wanting to forget. For the life of her, she could still honesly say, she wished not to return to Lindblum, although staying here spelt danger. " Is Lindblum so much worse than your prison here, " she questioned herself bitterly, angry at herself for her childish tantrum she still felt she should continue.

" Not childish, " another part countered. Death didn't seem to pose too much opposition within her either. " To die...my death...would he be sorry? "

She had though such concepts as suicide before she had left Lindblum. But self-harm was tasteless of a lady, and as having common sense, she would refuse.

" Would it have pleased him if I had? " Perhaps. Yet she had his airship, his greatest love, and his furies too far too reach her, more so with the magic dealt him by her hands. He had no means or the ability to find her. And his precious ship was hers...er...well, now it belonged to her captor. She contemplated the young man who was master of this establishment. Wily, and knowledgeable was he for his age that she had been surprised by his nature. Young men of his stature made merry in Treno, flirted with the common doxies, and petitioned their money at King's Auctioning house for rare and useless items.

His eye's. The orbs that knew where the jade stone kissed the ocean, were hard, cold, wise, and sad. Anger an emotion he had no help in feeling, yet no matter the the wicked flickering of his ever-wistful eye's, he had the prettiest smile that accompanied his emotions.

If she did not have the gift of reading eye's, she would have never known that he wasn't happy and serenly to his world.

His hands were very suited to the piano forte. The eerie, magical tunes ringing and whispering through the halls, waking her in even her most peaceful of sleep, stirring the need to rise and follow it's ephemeral resounance in hopes to spy the master with the pretty fingers.

His hair came in breadths of silver locks that fell in whisps about his shoulders and hips, causing her to restrain herself from grasping at the lengths and running them through her fingers, the peculiar feathers at his brow left the osculars struck and wondering, wanting a chance to make a pluck for them.

He was beautiful, ephemerality a constant phrase that surronded his being. Cid would have mistaken Kuja as a woman. He would have wanted the younger man for his own. She shook her head, trying to rid herself of such thoughts. Cid was gone and doomed by his physical statures now and she made for a grin on her face.

She smiled

And she smiled knowing that she was smiling.

A/N: Please review. I promise, it get's better.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own FFIX

The clatter of her cutlery echoed through the dining halls as she ate alone, yet she welcomed the sound, beckoned to it as it stood as her only source of company. She plucked the ripe insides if a pomegranate, salting when her senses proved necessary, and closed her eyes; savoring the contrast of the sour and sweetness that graced her tongue.

She would not have committed such trifle acts when residing within Lindblum, her manners acute and aware of the general eyes that had always been upon her. However, she was alone, and thought not if the bobbing hats that came and went, silent and scarecrow-like within the kitchens and the dining halls, knowing that they paid no mind to her gestures. She knew if she began a fit and was madly tossing dishes, they would merely pause to clean her mess and nothing more. Her first few weeks were spent, in-fact, testing their wit and mind's as she toppled over food and questioned them alike.

Mindless…

They were claimed mindless. Yet there were instances when she swore she saw flickers of emotion within their glowing amber orbs. The clocks chimed yet she paid no attention, her months of being kept " prisoner " gave her a listless attitude and an even worse listless schedule.

Her first month consisted of discoveries and trials as she entered every room possible, eventually leading her to a monster within a lab, leaving a four-inch thick tear, courtesy of claw, across her hip, which Kuja had angrily healed, yet not quick enough to rid her of the scar that had marred her flesh. She prodded it when she bathed, puckering and jagged.

Magery…

Another trite custom too far-gone and ill used within her being. Kuja's demonstrated skills alone left her empty and regretful about her own. She tinkered with his books and played upon their instructions, yet they were nothing compared to the mans.

Show up Kuja?

Highly unlikely, and she wouldn't dare to fancy it either.

Pretty lady of Lindblum, she had played her part well. Taste and grace were such words that had her centered and cornered upon their definitions but her pretty manners, pretty face, and pretty words did not hold a flicker of a flame to a beautiful mind that spun like the wheels on an airship engine, driving the cogs of her imaginations, desires, and longings to unimaginable worlds.

Her dreams once made her smile. Smile until she came to the conclusions that her fancy's dream had to end as they would forever continue within an endless waltz as they never came to fruition and never would.

Fear.

Yes, believe it or not, fear was a factor she craved. Fear came with adventure, and for a brief moment, when Kuja had captured the airship, a small spark of hope had flurried through her stomach as she watched the man in fear.

Hope of dying, hope of living, hope of something unfathomable and mind-boggling. Hope of the worst; hope of the best, hope beyond hope that she…she didn't know. But she knew it had been there.

She sighed heavily, wanting to drive the thoughts away.

' I'll go the library today,' she thought decidedly, standing from her seat with a heavy emptiness.

'Alone…I don't want to be alone anymore…'

A/N: Boring, I know. Next chapter Kuja finally enter's, so please review. Thank you for reading.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Don't Own It

A/N: Filler

Chapter Three

It wasn't till after she was much covered in dust and ink and when the sun began to fade over the desert sands that she left the library for the dinning halls. Hair annoyingly half pinned up, skirt tied and tucked, she started when the silver mage stared languidly at her from the head of the table, a glass within his slight hands, legs propped upon the table.

Quiet was he when he lifted the glass to his lips, ocean-jade looking at her above the rim of the cup, never faltering, the candleight and fire within the room the only source of light, playing with shadows against the walls. She suddenly felt embarrassed about her state as to his stand-offish elegance. Had she been at home, a servant would have faint.

' What have I the pleasure that you visit me here in my abode? ' Her lips quirked as she uttered the words, making his eyebrow slightly raise.

' _Your _abode? '

' As I recall, I reside here more than you do. ' He casted his eye's down as he took another sip of the Lindblum Vino, courtesy of the Regent, a look of weariness, boredom, and anger flashing over his features all at once, ' Are you fishing? '

' Only when the weather is right for it, ' she sighed, exhaustion comming over her as she sat, plucking the fork from the table.

' What predicaments have you made of the forecast? '

He was trying to catch a game that wasn't even being played. Something must have gone wrong today. ' Your the more skillfull mage, you tell me. '

Their eye's met and it was then that she noticed how fatiqued he was, ' What is it? '

It never failed to catch him off guard the slight moments when she was able to read him. His shook off the unnerving feeling and changed the subject, ' I was wondering if you would accompany me to Condie Petie tomorrow. '

Her fork paused in mid air.

' Fresh air, outside, all those silly things prisoners vie for. ' He waved a hand non-chalantly, taking another drink.

Whatever it was had rattled him greatly. He finished the glass with a final drink and gestured for more, a mage steping out from the darkness, pouring the liquid into the crystal glass.

' Very well, ' she whispered, studying his features. He noticed and a frown etched against his brow, impatience marking his face, ' Leave it, Lady. ' His command was final and she was much too tired to argue. She ate in silence while he consumed nothing, merely watched, his hand slightly shaking.

Author's Note: I wrote this part without my previously written stuff, thus, it's short.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: Don't own it.

A/N: I need reviews to continue this story. Lucrecia, that includes you.

Chapter Four: On marriage

Breathing the desert air upon the deck of the Hildaguarde, she spun around, her arm's outstretched. Her skirts billowed out within the wind, brushing against her thighs. Her hair was braided and pinned, fighting against the wind.

Slowly, she began to twirl, her eye's tightly shut as she began to whisper a song, counting steps to a dance she had never quite danced before. She felt free like she was bleeding fly and white holy, warm mittens, and a smile of blueberry pie.

Child and woman melted together and everything was nothing. And when a slender hand moved over her hip and another grasped her hand, following silently in her quite dance, she never once opened her eyes.

And Kuja never said a word while they danced, staring at the woman intently, no emotion on his face save for the intensity of his eyes.

------------------------------------

A simple book, courtesy of her captor, spoke of a small town upon the outer continent where small and simple creatures inhabited.

' Why are we going here? '

Kuja's fingers were speed alone as he worked the quill fast against parchment on a desk.

' I will not be allowed to enter without a wife. '

Despite his grace, he had terrible penmanship.

Her lips quirked at that, ' I am to play your wife? Where did we get married? How did we meet? '

She almost began to laugh before he answered.

' A ceremony needs to be witnessed. '

That struck her cold, her laughter caught in her throat.

He looked to her, a twist of the lips accompanied by amusement within his eyes.

The fact that she was already married was silent and linguered in the air before he continued, impishness tickling his voice.

' In the outer continent, such laws are unrecognized. In Condie Petie, you will be my wife. It will be our greatest play yet, ' he jotted something quick and placed the quill down, a small laugh escaping his lips.

She squared her shoulders, her features creasing, ' I suspect I have no choice in the matter. This marriage is merely for show and as soon as we leave the city, void. '

' Indeed, lady. I wouldn't wish you to think me Cid-like when I fancied another woman's touch. '

She didn't know such a strike would hurt so much.

And both individuals were silent as she left his quaters, trying to stay the tears that threatened to leave.

----------------------------

She was playing at marriage...

She bet a gil her wedding night would just be as lonely and cold as her first.

A/N: Yes, I made Cid a bastard. And it's good.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: Don't own it.

A/N: I have no excuse. I was lazy...

Chapter Five:

Ever the ivory butterfly, she blinked for good measure in the mirror. She had been reminded of the King and Queen, their five year old daughter in attendance as well.

It had been Cid's smile alone that put her mind at ease when the attendants reprimanded and instructed her to be mindful of the Rulers, forgetting that it was _her _wedding day.

Spidery lace were her fingers as they clasped onto her intended's own, a playful smirk tickling the edges of Cid's mouth when she spoke her vows. His own promises were spoken quite eloquently with a secret hand at her ribs that purposefully tickled. She had almost laughed before she slyly stepped on his foot discreetly, the two looking at one another with silly smiles on their faces.

Dutifully, she had played her part. The pride swelled in her chest at her careful grace and her joyous union to her husband (although his current consumption of the drink was getting the better of him).

Merely sixteen, yet her mind was calm and calculating. She knew right from wrong, reasonable from absurd. Cid had made habit to call her ' The Little Woman, ' always laughing when she bristled, causing her to laugh in turn.

When dusk had sighed into night, she was taken to a spacious room filled with several ladies. They gave knowing smiles and flushing advice about her intended intimate events for the night. She was dressed in a sheer and ever-wistful gown that would have beckoned the longings of any man who had view of her state. Her hair had been brushed with almond and honey-spice, small wavelets of golden tresses falling feather-like on her shoulders.

The woman lit candles and blew kisses before they left the golden-gilded room and she waited nervously upon the bed. And waited.

And waited.

Quite the embarrassment for the Lady of Lindblum when Regent Cid Fabool was found naked in the arms of another the morning after…

-------------------------------------------------------------

'Were you made up in white? The silk virgin? '

Amusement flickered within his eyes. His fingers danced about in the air, a habit she noticed whenever he was excited.

She couldn't help but laugh at his child-like behaviour. They were sitting down on the floor outside like small children, the wind tossing their hair.

' Well? 'A raise of a silver eyebrow sent her to an immediate answer despite the impatient pout that was beginning to work on his lips.

'Yes, I was. '

His eyes became slightly lidded, a languid smile added to his mouth, ' And the wedding night? '

She didn't hesitate nor still at the question. These few months had taught her to never be off guard. Kuja prodded with no regard to feelings. His goal was for knowledge and curiosity despite what others would feel. And after all, she was his prisoner. His social eloquence was not needed for her benefit although he didn't waver much from giving it.

She knew his thoughts centred on perverted and private details; however, it never failed to amuse her to surprise him.

' Alone. Cid consummated our marriage with another woman. ' Kuja noticed a bitter smirk upon her lips, one he doubted she was aware of. She had expected to surprise him, but rather, she had ignited a small fury within the mage.

'It seems...almost fitting, really, ' he whispered slightly, looking toward the horizon in the distance off the airship. He turned to her, a twisted smile etched about his face, ' But what truly amazes me is you, pretty Hilda. '

Her breath caught in her throat as she met his gaze full on, clouded with something she was having trouble to name, ' Through our very first discussions, I had deducted you were not as stupid, ' in which he said the word quite harshly, ' as I had originally thought. For what could anyone think of a woman who smiles at her husbands discretions with a mere comment of 'oops!' '

His gaze was intent upon her stunned face, his voice turning sing-song, ' I know a woman who disregards hurt in favour of appropriateness. I know a woman who keeps me interested in wit for hours yet can easily dismiss her own humiliation in favour of grace. You don't love him, 'it was here his smile disappeared in favour of a reprimanding tone, 'It's dead and I've learnt that you cannot bring dead things back to life. It's not ignorance I speak of but your stupidity. If you were _truly_ intelligent you would have recognized during the first affair that there would only be repeats. It was your _wedding night_. And you forgavehim. And every time after that, what did the pretty lady do? Is your love so _moving_ or was it the public face that demanded so? 'Now it seemed as if he was mocking her, but what she saw in his eyes made her heart clench in regret.

Pity.

He pitied her. A look she had always known and never recognized. She could have sworn bile was rising in her throat, she was so disgusted. She didn't want pity. Yet it was his that made something snap within her self-respect.

Kuja was a symbol of strength, a challenge in wit, and an equal. However, she didn't notice until now that the scale had always been tipped. He felt _sorry _for her.

He stood silent as he watched her. No response emitted from her mouth. Her eyes were wide, not registering the tears coursing down her face, her body slightly trembling. Her knees gave under, causing a surprised cry to ring from her mouth. He caught her and wrapped her in his embrace, wiping away the tears with his bell-like sleeves. The night was approaching fast and hard, pink dying into purple's awaiting arms. 'We do as we are told and learn late to break off. 'A breathy whisper against her ear, ' You fell without ever knowing that you were falling. Do you want to return to Lindblum? '

She looked to the sky, letting the silence fall as she closed her eyes, emotions thrashing about her being. Her whisper was barely audible when she answered.

' Never...'

And, 'unladylike', she silently cried upon his shoulder as she mentally reviewed all the woman that smiled at her across a dinner table only to find out much later her husband had been in better acquaintance. She heaved shuddery breaths when remembering the years when Cid's attention began to fade and he no longer cared for discreetness. A single, silent sob racked her shoulders at the casual girl in his lap, followed by a shrug and playful grin from the man when the hurt had crossed her face. And the most heart-clawing memory of them all:

'A man who loves more than one is admirable, Hilda. '

The knowledge that he truly never loved her.

After the first affair, he realized her hurt and had apologized tremendously. Yet after time, he came to ignore, shoving the facts into her face, mocking her in front of everyone.

And her enemy pitied her…

She howled.

And she never cried because she was the pretty Lady of Lindblum and that was just unreasonable.

'Reason ' had the biggest wings of all...

A thread unmercifully pulled at his chest as he watched her cry, making him flinch outwardly. However, she never noticed as her hands clenched his sleeves, giving her firmer purchase, her voice ringing in his ears.


	6. Chapter 6

When I Faltered

SableFahndu

Disclaimer: I do not own FFIX or any of the characters within the game.

Authors note: I finally wrote a chapter that will take more than five minutes to read. And the next one, if you're interested, is to come quite soon. I want to thank Lucrecia LeVrai for being my fantastic beta and if you haven't read her story Unreachable, then you're crazy. Enjoy.

Chapter Six-

She sat in a solitary chair inside her room within the Hilda Garde, her hands in her lap clenched in tight fists, her knuckles stark white in comparison to her common shade in colour. From a distance, the Lady Hilda was merely sitting demurely upright in her armoire. However, within the mind of the lady, emotions wrestled with one another and fought against each other like a treacherous tide; its creators named Rage and Fury.

The demise of Cid Fabool was far from her mind, put away in the back of her head for further recollection in the future. However, now her thoughts were that of a silvery web latching onto a single idea, twisting and turning until it trapped its prey to face the conceiver for analytical purposes, like a butterfly to a botanist.

Like the scientist, she poked and prodded the specimen in a methodical manner in order to better asses the individual, making mental notes yet too early in analysis to draw a proper conclusion. Inside the mind of the woman was a slip of silver and feathers that danced upon her scrutiny in humour, as if even in her head he found her thoughts and theories amusing.

She thought of Kuja, the manipulator, the mage, the man.

Cid was currently not her problem and she decided she would reserve all thought of him for when she would see him again. _If _she would ever see him again.

Now she focused on her captor, recollecting every word, every gesture, every move he ever made. She found herself grateful for this unfortunate event, for her kidnapping. It had opened her eyes to her failings. She felt the desire to not fail again. The Lady was not fond of mistakes, nor of committing them. Despite her acceptance of her kidnapping, this did not however make her grateful in any form to her captor.

The circumstance and view point may have shifted, but her view of him did not. He was no hero and no saviour. The fact that she was still alive was charity from him. It was easy to understand the weariness and isolation that comes with residing with mindless drones, that any form of company would seem entertaining. For him, she was merely a voice box that responded with equal wit and intelligence. She grinned bitterly at that.

_How fortunate for him. _

She had come to the conclusion on the deck of the Hilda Garde that her chapter in life in which Cid Fabool reigned first and foremost was over. Although every bit the Lady she was, she doubted she was hardly in the mood to toss dishes and scream obscenities. Yet subtle and quiet punishments awaited him on her return.

And now another man had come into her life, dangling the possibility of life and death with subtle and sometimes not so subtle threats, beckoning her to take a chance to challenge him, laughing at her within the depths of his eyes. And now that he pitied her, it added salt to the inverted wound and it boiled her blood in a manner she never thought possible.

She would escape.

In spite. In retaliation. In justified proof that she had bested him, escaping his many traps, his monsters, his mages, his magic; the depth of his power.

Her anger subsided slightly. When she thought of it that way, it didn't seem as easy as originally perceived.

She reminisced and recollected on everything she ever knew or witnessed that was Kuja, trying to spot a weakness (_she snorted at the unlikeliness of that one_), to garner a slip of the tongue, to fissure a fault within the traps he set about the palace.

Their current destination could give her just the chance she needed to escape, however, she held no idea at all as to the possibilities it could propose due to the fact she had never heard anything about this _Condie Petie_. Her reading of the text gave her little insight as to the area and population of the nation, merely explaining the rituals of marriage needed to gain passage into the city and the faint whispers of descriptions of the people themselves. The book read vague, leaving her with an idea that the people were simpletons and not as advanced in the ways of life as her own world.

Would they have airships? Land taxis? What means of travel did they use as their day to day transportation? Was the land developed enough for such needs, such means?

_Who knows, they might all ride silver dragons like Quicksilver up there. _

If dragons were in order, then she would need other means of escape. The creature with which Kuja rode upon frightened the daylights out of her, even if she wasn't inclined to show it.

She never held any affection for lizards of any kind. Perhaps her distastes led to the current demise of the Regent, prompting her to choose something else.

Whenever the chance arose to be outside, it watched her every move, its eyes raking back and forth from wherever she walked, ever still, and ever watching. She had casually waltzed outside upon the small docking port in the cave at the Desert Palace, her subtle eye raking over the dry landscape, looking for a means of escape with a practiced, bored expression upon her un-painted face, her hair becoming increasingly windblown from the devastating height of the cavernous dock, when something quickly shifted from the corner of her eye, too fast for her peripheral vision to acknowledge the means of the movement. She quickly reminded herself of her to keep up with her charade and slowly turned to the moving object, hand lazily thrown about one of her hips, too reminiscent of her captor, and looked in instant horror to find the feathered creatures head sinuously move closer, one fluid movement. She was almost unable to withhold her cry of fright when the silver lizard stopped, its great massive head merely inches apart from her own, each eye staring into hers, blinking strangely, its eyelids located vertically upon its eyes rather than horizontally like most creatures and beings she was accustomed to. After what felt like hours, the animal merely gave a snort in her direction, and crawled away, its wings folded behind its back. The dragon's zephyr of a breath forced her body to take a few steps back.

And she was dazed.

The breath alone had no smell. However, she felt inside herself momentary confusion and then all her all her senses began to communicate something else entirely one by one. She tasted calm upon her tongue which for some unfathomable reason she could associate with lemon fizz's at Jerrick's Candy Shoppe in Lindblum, _a vice the lady never gave up to this day_.

Her ears rang silently despite the tingly feeling of the hard wind clashing against the cave wall, the constant exposure beginning to make the exposed parts of her body feel numb. There was a faint tint to her vision, a colour she had never seen before thus identify, and she began to sway as her senses were being flooded by these new sensations. She looked to the massive beast and it merely gave what she could have swore was a small nod, acknowledging the workings of her body as if it new the effects its mere breath was having on her.

She tried to stay as far away as possible from the creature ever since. Her thoughts on asking Kuja on the matter were automatically rejected as she felt his clever mind would naturally know the means of her expedition and she didn't truly know what emotion that might claw out of the man. She was frightened of the man but no so much so that she was terrified. In the end, she knew her curiosity would win her out and she would ask him anyway.

Perhaps chocobos ran amok the land, providing opportunity to mount one and take off into the distance when the man was preoccupied or amiss.

She gave a half-hearted laugh at that one, imagining herself astride the bird, holding on for dear life as it ran into a plain, jostling her about like she was a ragdoll, Kuja catching up to her in merely minutes, most likely by magical means, interrupting her escape.

She couldn't decide if he would be angry or amused. Probably both; one following after another. The man could switch feelings within an instant, like a child whose interest is continuously grasped by something new.

Her anger was building inside her stomach, the feeling that everyone was getting the best of her kept turning in her mind like a conveyor belt. She was a woman highly capable of solving problems, a great deal of them politics carried upon her belt. However, now her vulnerability and helplessness was starting to get the better of her, making her breath come fast and ragged in short pants, her emotions quickly interchanging from anger to panic, switching over and over again.

Was there really nothing she could do?

Her husband's actions clashed together in her mind, memories she had filed away one by one to be forgotten were wrenching their way through the surface of her mind, fuelling her fury, mocking her for her weakness for "forgetting", beckoning to her for revenge, revenge in which she had no means of dealing.

And now this man.

This new man who had smilingly taken her from her ship and tantrum to name himself as her captor in secret, a man whom she had felt equal in every way of the mind now had another of his many trump cards held over her head, dangling it over here in his amusement. Not so yet, however she doubted it would be long until he could no longer resist and began his childlike teasing at her misfortune.

Before now, she had not felt utterly helpless because he knew so little of her as she had of him. The scales were no longer balanced and it caused her nails to painfully dig into her skin.

No, try as she might, she could not escape.

However, if she could find fault in the man, other than his ego, his vanity, his lust for power, and insensitivity, all the things in which he acknowledged fully and with a smile, if she could find a secret of his that he would never relinquish to anyone then she would again feel his equal in their mental capacities, if not magical.

If he had a weakness that she could play upon then she was sure she could continue to cope with the hand that life had dealt her. She tried to prevent herself from imagining the many looks and expressions that might come across his face once he discovered she knew something very intimate and very private about himself because she knew that if and when she did, nothing should could imagine would ever be plausible. Kuja was nothing less than surprising.

She scanned the facilities of her mental being and began analysing her means of which she could pull information from the silvery man.

Books.

There were many books within his vast library, perhaps she could find something of a personal means. The mage did have notes aplenty strewn about, despite the fact that she could not decipher what any of them would mean. _Perhaps the reason why he never bothered to put them away from her curious eyes. _She could swear that some were written in an entirely different language altogether! She snorted. She purely blamed that upon his horrible work with the quill. Despite his efforts when he was hard at work, he was never very clean with the ink either, his small hands covered in ink, a stray blotch or streak smudged on a brow. He was quick to wash and hide the evidence, clear embarrassment flushing his cheeks when she smiled a mean grin in his direction; making sure her canines were showing, his delicate sullied hands hidden within his bell-like sleeves, a slick, quick defiant look slashed in her way before he hurriedly made for the door, not realising the ink left on the latch.

She left clear instructions to the mages to leave it there as a small, wicked reminder upon his next visit to the library.

She felt a small chance in this option, however she needed more in the hopes of garnering any information.

Perhaps she could unashamedly partake in a drinking game. Although it would be highly stretched to dub the man an alcoholic, when merry he was easily enraptured by the drink. However, he was not a man of revealing secrets, but a man of many jokes ranging from wit and higher intelligence to the more lewd and perverted ones he had no trouble in telling and she had blushingly enjoyed. Had her captor been a man of lesser means, she could easily see him as a prankster, someone when foxed who was more than happy to play a trick or two on an unsuspecting soul, his cheeks flushed from the drink, the childlike excitement lashing in his eyes like a Flare, his heart racing in his chest just before he ran before he was caught in whatever act he was partaking.

No, he was not into letting out secrets in one of his few inebriated states, however if she played alone and maybe with a little prompting she might be able to sliver out a little titbit about the man himself.

She didn't find this option all the more promising, yet she didn't immediately dismiss it either.

She sighed.

Her best bet would be a war of wit, an act of fake curiosity, _perhaps mingled with a true bit_, guiding him to give something, most likely angering him to give her an answer, something that would give him the slip of the tongue, giving her an advantage, and most likely giving her his rage.

It was dangerous. He would most likely never forgive himself of giving her something so strong by accident that he might feel the need to get rid of her altogether.

But she needed _something_.

Anything.

At this point, she felt it was do or die than to meekly sit by and see what _might _happen. She wanted some control in her situation no matter how small.

And she was determined to get it.

"This is Condie Petie?" the lady asked, looking below the deck at the ground below her that was slowly beginning to meet her face as the ship began to descend to the ground, her mind working around the small information she had gathered from the little text her captor had given her.

She looked to a mage for her answer, the creature blinking quietly to himself.

"No, merely a stop along the way. "

Her small yet increasingly good mood began to ebb away at the sound of the silver man's voice.

She didn't bother to look at him but instead placed her feet along the single elevated plank at the edge of the ship and hoisted herself up so her stomach was resting on the edge, her hair being teased unmercifully out of her tight coif, a small smile working on her features as butterflies rose in her stomach as they fell, fell, fell and she was being slightly pulled forward over the ledge by the gusting wind.

A small chuckle was heard too close behind her and it wasn't too long when she felt small but firm hands grasp her around her waist to lift her slightly up to pull her away from the edge and soundly on her feet. She looked at him from the corner of her eye, waiting for him to let her go.

A non-subtle grin flashed across his face at her antics and gave no hint at releasing her. "I have some business to take care of, nothing official, merely for curiosities sake. "

This piqued her interest. Her neck was beginning to hurt in the manner of which she had to strain to look at him full on.

"I won't be gone long. " And suddenly his hands tightened, on the brink of biting into her flesh. It was definitely not pain he was intending, but a warning. "They will be watching you, " his eyes flicking to a random black mage, " so I advise you to be the reasonable woman you are and not make an escape. " His voice was becoming lower, something ominous and playful at the same time.

She gave a bored blink and tiredly replied, " I wouldn't be so dim-witted to escape into a country I know nothing about, stranded fathoms away from any remote form of civilization in the hopes of obtaining freedom. " Although the thought had crossed her mind several seconds before his warning had been given.

His wicked grin grew wider. It was obvious he could see through her façade of pretend boredom. "That's right, Lady Hilda. How very clever you are! " he replied in mocking approval. He immediately let go of her abruptly and walking away without a look in her direction. A surprised "Umph!" came forth from her mouth as she stumbled, trying to catch her footing as a foot skidded on the hem of her dress. She had not realised he had never properly placed her upon the deck, holding her an inch or so from the floor. She quickly noted that it was easier to breathe without the corset-like hold her captor had been keeping on her.

She looked at him with a bit of surprise widening her eyes, the shock of what transpired between them in the last few seconds slightly overwhelming her. She watched as he placed a hand on the very ledge she had been leaning dangerously upon and with a slight leap, he was gone.

She rushed to the edge peering down below, surprised as the ship had no quite landed yet. Kuja gracefully fell to the ground, most likely casting Float to aid his decent. He did not look up as he began to walk in the direction of the vast woods that spread across the land, thick and closely knit together like a quilt of evergreen.

"Where is he going?" she asked before she thought of who to ask, only a mage flanked at her side, most likely troubled by her close proximity to the edge.

He shifted nervously and replied, "We do not know."

She turned to him with a delicate eyebrow slightly raised, "He didn't tell you?"

The little man fidgeted with the buttons on his clothes and she quietly noted that she had never seen such behaviour in one of his kind before.

"In truth miss, I do not think even he knows. "

"I was under the impression that none of your kind was made to think. "

He blanched at that and suddenly became stock-still, his hands moving straight at his sides. "I'm sorry…"

The cat of ever curiosity was scratching its mental paws at her mind and she began to move slowly toward the stout man, her eyes questioning, eyebrows raised.

"I did not mean to sound unkind. I'm merely surprised that you would speak to me so. Either your brothers are un-inclined to share their vocal habits or they do not inhabit the same faculties as you."

His amber eyes seemed momentarily confused. There was a brief pause before he quietly replied, "I do not know what you mean."

A small smile was almost tugging at her lips, "I mean you're different. From the other black mages. "

A look of understanding crossed his features and he gave a firm nod, shifting his attention to the floor under his feet. "I feel different. In…a small way. But it becomes bigger…everyday." His speech was slow, halting, but ever so gentle.

"And the others? Are they different? "

He shook his head, still looking to the ground.

"Have you chosen a name for yourself?"

His head instantly shot up, his ever smouldering eyes looking to her again in confusion. "A name? "

Her smile grew, "Yes, something to call yourself by. "

He flicker of recognition marked his eyes, "Yes…I have a name. We all do. "

Instantly, she was intrigued, never knowing of such information herself. They had names! Had she known before, she would have been more inclined to call them by name instead of merely referring to them as "mage."

"I am number 178. " She could here the smile in his voice, pride edging in his voice, most likely a new concept to the man.

She instantly felt disappointed. "That's not a proper name! " She immediately regretted her words as a sad look crossed the eyes of the man and he backed away a step, his head turning to the floor again, his shoes beginning to scuff the wood of the deck.

"I mean, that's not the best name for someone like you, although it is a mighty fine name. " She finished off the last part lamely. He was interested however. He looked to her now with curiosity in his eyes and took a step forward, resuming his former distance.

Her guilt began to ebb away, "Well, there's all sorts of names you could choose from. Names without numbers. "

"Like what? "

"All sorts like Eli, Felix, Marco, Balthasar-"

"Balthasar?!"

"Well, maybe not Balthasar." Such a name sounded completely silly coming out of a man so childlike. "Well, what about things you desire or like? Maybe you could have a name that resembles something you enjoy?"

His eyes lit up, " I like sweets."

She bit her lip. She didn't think "parfait" or "cupcake" would prove too well as a name. "Well, what about activities you do? Things you like to look at? "

"I don't get to do much. All we do is work. "

The lady placed an elegant fingertip at her lips. "How about Atlus?"

"Atlus?" The mage said the name hesitantly, a bit of wonder seasoning his surprise.

"For someone who has a lot of work ahead of them."

"But I've already done my chores for the day, " he said frighteningly, fearful that perhaps he had forgotten something.

She laughed out loud, tears almost coming forth from her eyes, "Not chores. Life. You have a lot to learn, that's all. "

He was immediately relieved, something that sounded like a sigh escaping his lips. "Atlus!" he said with a firm nod to his head. "It sounds strange. " He looked to her in question.

She smiled in turn, "It's a good name. " He nodded once more, and then his eyes crinkled at the corners as if he were smiling.

She looked to the sky and realised that it would be little more than an hour before the sky was cascaded with a dark shroud of night. She decided it would be then when Kuja returned.

"If you will excuse me Mr. Atlus, I'm going inside. " It was a shame to end their conversation when it had barely started but she only had a small slot of time in which to garner some private information. The mage gave a brief nod, remaining in his position by the edge, black mages set about the deck to prevent any possible escape. She rolled her eyes. It was unnecessary, really.

Inside the ship, she immediately made way for the kitchen. A few scarecrow-like men were already bustling about, preparing dinner in large dishes that steamed and wafted many flavourings that enticed her senses. As soon as she entered she enquired about a pairing knife and given a blank look, she was also given her tool, and with a pleasant smile, she turned and left, her skirts almost shifting about stray flour on the floor.

She smiled to herself as she hummed Lindblum's " Devout de Linde ", jimmying the knife into the lock of the door, a small giggle erupting from her mouth like a small girl when the door opened. She stuffed the pairing knife under her wasp and made her way directly to the desk of the young magician.

The room favoured nothing of his taste. Perhaps the silver man had not felt inclined to keep the ship permanently. Or perhaps he himself felt nothing of a personal sanctuary within the room. This room had been meant for Cid, however, the Regent never even had the chance with his angry wife sailing away from his city, taking his ship right from under his nose. Hilda smirked at that, a small sense of gratification sweeping her being. "I wonder if he thinks I'm taking care of it? " Maybe not her but the black mages were doing a splendid job. The creatures were much more able and dedicated at their jobs then any cleaners she had ever hired in the past.

She sat down in the chair at the desk and began perusing the many papers and notes she could find there. She soon became bored when she began shifting through cargo receipts and docking permits. All this travelling and tracked information and _no one _could gather that this was Cid Fabool's missing airship? Yes, the ship had not made its public debut yet, but rumour gets about, someone must know _something _was amiss. Looking again, she realised that all the papers listed with the ship were wrongly signatured in her name. Good grief, her name looked terrible in what was undoubtedly his penmanship. Perhaps _that _was why nothing had been said. The lady has already proven once that when provoked she could retaliate. Perhaps the men and women who would know of the ship would also know about Cid's circumstances and not be too quick to let on about the Lady's whereabouts. She sighed. She prayed that her past actions of revenge would not be her downfall now, that her spiteful magic was not the reason why no one was looking for her.

Moving the mass of papers to the side, she began filtering through a draw, finding unofficial notes that caught her interest. Finding something of a personal means to Kuja could only be beneficial. Spotting something lengthy and what seemed promising, unlike the many invitations and auctioning lists she had been finding, she began reading a personal letter to Mr. Kuja from a Lady Edda Afton of Treno. She briefly searched her memory banks remembering a Lord Afton, and assuming the lady to be his wife. Skimming the letter, her eyes scanned the many _thank yous _the lady wrote pertaining to Mr. Kuja's acceptance of her house's invitation and the party's success would not have surmounted to its magnitude without his quick humour and infectious gaiety. If only Lady Afton knew, she sarcastically thought.

_You are most welcomed here at any time, Mr. Kuja__, for whatever favours you may need again. _

Hilda's eyes widened instantly.

Reading along, the letter immediately turned course into a lucid and very descript play of events that transpired between the Lady and Kuja alone. A faint blush seeped into her cheeks, however, the more she read, the more she could not put the letter down, its intimated details creating visuals within her own mind, her curiosity getting the better of her.

The way Kuja seemed to make this woman feel and the acts they had been committed to left her knowing that Kuja was definitely a manipulator of not only the mind but of the body. She was beginning to feel that the ardour and passion within her own intimate life was rather plain. Once finished, she was quick to put the letter back in its proper place, her face scarlet red, closing the drawer immediately, her mind racing with details.

She shook her head, trying to get a firm grip of herself. "I'm here for information, not some scandal with a married woman! "she reminded herself. She opened the second drawer and it did not take her long to find something that resembled what she was looking for.

A diary.

Flicking through, she decided to start in the middle, hoping the progression of the book would lead to more interesting information.

_Lady Elephant was rather fond of showing me off today as her newest counsel. I could have sworn her jaws could not extend the depths of which I had been shown until dinner time. Certainly something to plague my dreams until I leave Alexandria again. Aside from the__ Queen's tragic onslaught on the continent's_ _food supply I find it quite thrilling to watch the Canary bristle next to her mother, whether in shame by the woman's actions or my stare, I could not tell. The Elephant had me fitted in a suit of her choosing, which prompted me to consider killing her right then and there. The damnable trousers were restraining against my legs, allowing nor relief for my tail-_

"Tail?" Hilda thought in wonder, not able to recollect a time when she saw such an appendage on the man.

The man's clothing was quite daring by her cities standards and really left little to the imagination where his body was concerned. Thinking to his attire, she began to wonder where he might put such a thing. However, on thought of his body, she began to remember the contents or Lady Afton's letter and again fell into a blush.

"Focus. If it was in his trousers, he must hide it. " If Kuja had a tail, then that must mean he wasn't human.

He resembled nothing like the animalistic inhabitants of her city and others, and if he wasn't human, then what was he?

"I can honestly say in any of my imaginings I didn't think I would find you here. "

A small gasp escaped her mouth as she stood and turned around. A smile was on his face, something reminiscent of teasing, of having been caught being naughty. She stood up and moved around the chair, and into his view. As soon as she faced him, his smile vanished.

Once his eyes had locked on to the book within her hand, all playfulness had left his face, replaced by anger that was quickly growing into undisguised outrage. His eyes were intensely wide, his chest puffing out as if he were about to unleash a tirade, a slight tremble running through the nerves of his hands which caused them to slightly twitch in jittery motions.

She tasted fear as it flooded her mouth like a massive tidal wave, overtaking her senses and choking her. She had never witnessed his anger at such a dangerous level and knowing only minimally of what he was capable for, she now feared for her life.

"You…have no right…" he was breathing so hard, his anger so consuming, that he was having trouble getting the words out. It was obvious that he was attempting to keep his rage under control and he was failing. Perhaps there was more within the book than the secret of his apparent tail.

It was obvious. An intrusion in his room could prove punishable however his mood. Yet now it was the invasion into his personal life and thoughts, this book in her hands that had brought about the man she was looking at now. With a quickness that startled her, he was in front of her in an instant. She had no time to gasp in surprise. In less than a second, they were face to face, his left arm raising; his actions unknown. There was merely a single inch between them.

Without thinking, instinct taking over, fearing for what could possibly be her life, she ripped the pairing knife from her wasp and wrenched it into his side, where her mind registered his ribcage would be.

Before he could place his hands on her an explosive gasp tore through his lips, his eyes wide in shock, looking to her in absolute surprise. Something hot and sticky poured down her fingers and numbly she looked down to see her fingers loosely holding the wooden hilt, crimson blood oozing between her fingers and within the crevices of her hand, dripping from her wrist to the wooden floor. What started as a slow course quickly accelerated as the red river started moving faster along her arm and her knife. The many details she witnessed had only lasted seconds. In instant panic, she ripped the knife from his ribs, horror ripping through her chest.

His hands fell to her shoulders, grasping into her sleeves, ripping the fabric with his weight.

"You…you…"

"I'm sorry, "she barely whispered, tears suddenly springing to her eyes. She held him beneath his arms, his taller frame leaning heavily on her as she began shouting for help, her voice high and loud, clouted by her sobs. Why was she crying for him?

She was beginning to slip. Despite his slight appearance he was heavier than he appeared and taller than her.

Her body was shaking and she looked to see him staring at her with something akin to wonder, pain still etched about his brow and she was almost to the point of screaming for help before mages arrived to swiftly heal their master. The book lay dead and forgotten on the floor and she could only stare as the little men placed their creator on the bed, working quickly to correct what she had wronged.

Their eyes never left one another, hers filled with guilty regret and his taken over by confusion and pain.

It would be a long night.


	7. Chapter 7

When I Faltered-Chapter 7

by Sable Fahndu

Disclaimer: I do not own any rights to Final Fantasy XI.

"What did you read? "

She flinched at the whisper of his voice, silver swirling about his tongue, the words soft and floating.

She had been sitting within a chair in a far corner of the room through the whole ordeal. The black mages work had ended hours ago. The man in the bed now had glared at her until he had fallen asleep, his oceanic eyes accusing yet blinking tiredly, his head turned directly at her. The image almost seemed like an annoyed child forced to bed. However the look in the man's eyes could never be mistaken for mere annoyance. He had seemed ready to spit Death from his mouth.

After hours of rest, he was awake; his eyes closed yet his mind and voice fully functional.

"Well?" Although his tongue was slow and slack with sleep, impatience still managed to escape his tired tone.

"You were having dinner with the Queen in Alexandria. " Try as she might, she could not garner a brave tone and her voice came faint and feather down. She felt very much like a child in waiting for punishment. In fact she felt a punishment might be soon to come. She couldn't die now. There were so many unwoven threads hanging stray within the fabric of her life.

And even more so, although Hilda was no coward whenever danger had ever presented itself within her life; her guilt was strongly weighing her down. Every time she closed her eyes she could imagine her legs tide to an anchor at the bottom of a dark, lightless ocean, her cries for help choked and muted by the salted water as it flooded and scratched her throat, her body floating yet unmoving within the cold, wet asylum. Yet why should she feel guilty? She had merely defended herself in what could have been a hazardous situation.

Something was scratching at the back of her mind, reminding her although her captor could be cruel; he had treated her with courtesy the moment they met. Although this did not justify him as a good man, Hilda was not quick to forget kindnesses no matter how and when given. Yet was this the true reason she felt so awful now? Or perhaps her nature as a non-violent individual was reprimanding her at this moment.

"And?" He was still waiting.

"You were watching the Queen eat. It sounded like a disturbing affair. " She almost shook her head to escape her distracting thoughts.

A loud sigh came from his mouth and his eyes opened. He turned and glared at her, "You really are dragging this along. What did you find out? "

"You have a tail, "she rapidly replied, the words forcing themselves out in quick succession, one after another before she had time to think.

"What else? " He didn't sound surprised in the least.

She had thought it over and over while he had slept, his naked chest rising and falling, the bandages wrapped around his ribcage straining against his body. She had never witnessed a tail and in most of the attire she had seen upon the man left no chance to hide the appendage. She was sure she had misread or perhaps a better explanation of what she had read would be given within the diary however the black mages had been quick to take the book upon their exit. Even so, her regret wouldn't have allowed her to read further at this time anyway.

The lack of emotion from him when she mentioned a tail led her to believe that there was a possibly he did indeed have such a thing.

"I did not get any further. "

A crease wedged itself between his eyebrows as he studied her, looking into her eyes for proof of truth.

He sighed, the crease easing itself out of his features and softening as he propped himself up with an elbow and made to reach for a glass of water from the nightstand. Hilda was quick to rise, moving to the pitcher and filling a glass with the desired liquid.

" Someone as conniving as you would mull over that morsel of information for ages. " He took the water from her and drank quietly. She found another chair and made to sit by him. She looked to the floor, noticing the hem of her skirts had trace amounts of blood, a stain that would surely never come out. She thought it ironic that a dress given to her by this man would be stained with his blood. Yet to call it a gift was far fetched. Clothes were a necessity and it didn't prove much trouble for him to find her many dresses.

"You have no idea what you've done. " Her head snapped up and out of her own thoughts as she looked to him.

"What do you mean? " She was slightly frightened by the many meanings his words could entail. Her normally fashioned gold hair was already on end with her finger's constant worry through the tresses within the last hours although she would never display such an act in front of the very man she had worried over.

"This injury you gave me, "he smirked sarcastically at that, "will leave a scar. My body is marred with your stupidity. "

"…Excuse me?"

She wanted to scream. Was that all he was worried about? His body? His beauty? Damn his vanity, what did one scar mean?! She could feel her emotions fighting to display themselves on her features and she was struggling to keep her expression intact.

She noticed he was looking at her, his head tilted down causing his hair to fall over one shoulder and almost hiding one eye, the glass empty within his right hand. He was clearly reading her thoughts upon her face, a quiet observation.

"You misunderstand Lady. For someone like me, perfection is all I have. I can be nothing less if I am to-"His soft voice stopped there, his ocean eyes were vague and no longer looking at her, but past her, into his own thoughts.

"If you are to what?" Anger still threatening to cloud her voice.

That brought him back to attention and he shook his head. "Nothing. Never mind. "

She jumped when something twitched beside his left leg, ruffling her skirts loudly.

He would have laughed had he been in a better mood. Yet he was also sore about this bit of information slyly stolen from him, although it was the least of his worries.

"Well isn't this what you wanted to see? " He asked with undisguised sarcasm, his natural coy and playful antics long gone. He was definitely not in the mood for witty banter or games.

The tip of the appendage sneaked its way from under the blanket and into her view. The light from the dim flickering candle on the nightstand played with the silver fur upon the tail. It started to move languidly from side to side. She looked to the mage but noticed he wasn't even paying attention to it as he reached over to pour himself another glass of water.

"What is it like? To have a tail that is? "Surely it could come in handy with practice. She wondered if he tried, whether he could even lift his glass with it.

"It's a pain in my ass. " His voice was rough and tired as he moved to sit back down, his glass refilled. She was a bit taken aback by his frank answer. It was not in Kuja's nature to speak so ineloquently. She thought about what he said and paused.

"Not like that! " He again glared at her over the rim of his glass as he drank. "It's located over my tailbone. " A smirk suddenly twisted his lips and he looked down into his glass before taking another drink, "For such a fine lady, you seem very inclined to perverted thoughts. I doubt it's an aspect your husband is aware of. " He was enjoying the expression that was quickly transforming her face.

Hilda bristled at that, her eyebrows meeting one another. Her attention was averted once more by the movement of his tail and she felt she was being pulled in its direction. Her urge to touch the soft looking appendage was overwhelming and she moved her hand in its direction. Her fingers splayed, she looked to the man first and noted his look of curiosity which seemed childlike, accompanied by the fact that he was now holding his glass with two hands. She reached out and stoked gently, splaying her fingers down the tuft of fur, slightly warmed by the blanket. Instantly is latched on to her, curling around her wrist; soft but firm.

She glanced at Kuja in surprise and noticed he was frowning once more. He was looking to his tail and not at her. Within a few seconds, it released her in one fluid motion and hid beneath the blanket once more.

"You don't like the fact you have a tail? " It wasn't really a question but an observation. He had been clearly uncomfortable with her petting. And she had been unintentionally slipped another slice of information. The fact that he hid it meant no one else knew about it. No one but her.

She thought again on this. Her and perhaps Lady Afton. And perhaps a whole trove of Ladies across Gaia. She suddenly felt cheated. She dismissed the thought before her cheeks has the chance to flare. It was obvious he was not going to answer her so she pressed for another question.

"If you're not human, what are you? "

He leaned into a pair of pillows he had propped up and sighed, closing his eyes, the bandages on his slightly masculine chest stiff and pale as the man they embraced. For a man so slim, it was quite a surprise to find any muscle contouring the planes of his chest.

"I am from Terra. It's a city within the Lost Continent. "

"And does everyone have a tail like you?" Her curiosity always got the better of her. A rush of excitement was rising in her chest.

"They do in fact. " It was suddenly hard to read his emotions.

"Do you have family there? " She unconsciously always thought of Kuja as an only child. He opened his eyes.

"Yes. A younger brother and sister. " He seemed annoyed at the mention of his siblings. She wondered what such a family would look like. Would they be as beautiful as the man lying down in front of her?

"Do they look much like you? "

"Ye-no… No one looks anything like me. "The words came out so vehemently that she was startled. Hostility was hot and heavy in his eyes and although she thought it best to leave the matter alone for now, she was intensely intrigued and thought to bring up the subject another time. Thinking on it now, she was quite surprised that her curiosity in the past had not given her as much trouble as it did these days. But then again, her past experiences had never held a flicker to a flame to the situation she was in now. She found it funny how it could roll off her tongue so casually; _I've never been kidnapped before. _It seemed even more tragic knowing her capture was purely incident.

What would it mean to be an intended prisoner of a man such as Kuja. The result of her guards upon their initial meeting was knowledge enough of what he _was _capable of. She speculated that the man was much more powerful than anything she had ever seen him demonstrate, yet what exactly was the zenith of his magical abilities? And how much pull did he have with the Queen of Alexandria? Something ignited within her mind and she felt almost silly for not questioning it earlier. _Although a bleeding man can leave one momentarily scatter-brained. _

What exactly was he doing with Queen Brahn?

What kind of relationship did him and her Majesty share?

Something tasting like fear and fright was biting at her throat. She was continuously questioning Kuja's motives, however now she was beginning to suspect him of being more than just a skilled magician, murderer, and thief. For him to be so personal with the Queen could not bode well. Who was there to worn her? Who could even presume him to be such a man? He fooled her continuously with his charming smile and polite mannerisms. Even when he was more playful and teasing in his sarcastic and mean way, his soft voice and disarming grins left her confused whether she should join in or be insulted.

She shook herself from her thoughts, needing to be alone, to sleep, to think, to _breathe_. She felt as if she were suffocating. She stood up then, her skirts rustling with her movement. She made for the door, her hand upon the knob. "I'll go change then. Are you hungry? "

He merely gave a brief nod and she left.

Once the door closed upon her exit, Kuja wearily stood from his bed, naked and ever pale. His chest felt stiff yet his legs were lax. Moving lazily to the standing mirror in a corner closest to the bed, he began tearing the bandages off before he even reached the looking glass, leaving a trail of gauze on the floor.

Standing straight, his head tilted to the side, his fingers prodded the stitches along the side of his chest. The wound was small in size, much like the woman who gave it to him, but it would still leave its mark.

He could almost kill her.

His initial rage was long gone however his irritation was persistent. First her possible discovery of all his plans and then the trick with her little knife.

The injury, although a blemish he would have to live with for the rest of his days, was small in scale. He could live with that. Yet her prying into his personal affairs was cause for much alarm. What if he had not discovered her when he did and she had continued on?

He frowned at himself in the mirror. What if she had? The solution was simple. He would kill her. Whatever he told the Lady was of no consequence to him. She was easily disposed of. He was quite surprised himself that a better search was not in order for the woman. She was the Regent's wife no less.

He would be quite interested in sharing all his personal secrets to Lady Hilda just to hear her commentary. And when everything was in order, he could easily toss her over the ship or feed her to an antlion.

Thinking of it, although quite amusing, made him feel slightly off. He had never decided whether he would simply dispose of the woman or set her free when all was said and done. He hadn't really invested too much thought on it. She was clever and intelligent and it had only been within this last week he had seen any strong emotion from her. What had once been a mountainous glacier was slowly chipping away into someone who could be less sturdy than she seemed. He didn't question her strength but he was dying to know of her insecurities, if she had any, and what could possibly make her tick. The thought of poking and prodding into the interior that was Lady Hilda Fabool was interesting for lack of a better word.

The session upon the deck a few days ago was nothing of the sort he had been looking for. Watching her cry as she had had left him feeling ill placed and uncomfortable. He was not good at comforting nor would he want to be.

Kuja was not prone to great acts of forgiveness either. However, although he would never admit, the fact that Lady Lindblum was an outlet for mental solitude could not be shaken off. Killing her now would be an utter waste, he concluded. In the past she had proved to be much more fun than he originally anticipated. Ladies of the court were only interesting at best for intrigue, but the Lady of Lindblum had proved to be quite a surprise. And why not indulge in such a rare gift? He summed his forgiveness as being a gentleman.

However, his thoughts turned dark once more. Indeed Hilda was a formidable companion but her curiosity was getting the better of her. He'd lied about Terra, the red planet that hung within the sky like an ominous moon, feeling the need to keep information from her. And her little stunt with her knife would not be forgotten. Kuja didn't like to feel threatened. And he was most apt at getting rid of obstacles that marred his path.

He would give her one more chance out of generosity. One last chance and no more.

Hilda's stiff legs moved down the hall, her back erect and aching, her lips silently praying for proper posture in order to command what dignity she had left, her regret of last nights actions ebbing away. Although it was morning, the sun still had not risen and she was awfully tired.

A black mage moved silently down the softly lit hall within the ship, the butter-like light of the candles rubbing smooth against the wooden floors and walls, where the light did not reach was cast in ominous shadows. The stout man was mildly startled when she grasped his arm, her fingers sinking into the fabric as if there were nothing beneath it. "Your master has asked for food. Send it to his room. "There was a swift nod from the dark little man and he turned his head away and resumed his walk down the hall in the opposite direction.

She continued in the direction of her quarters and began thinking of what had transpired hours ago. When the plump, scarecrow like men had entered the room to heal their master she was surprised they had not retaliated by killing her. They had not even made to look in her direction much less touch her. They merely pried Kuja from her grasp and moved him to the bed; paying no mind to the frazzled woman their master was staring at with the bloodied knife in her hand.

Reaching her room, she tiredly opened her wardrobe and half-heartedly began searching for a new dress while shrugging off her old. The yards of fabric fell to the floor in a sad mess, crumbled and stained with his blood and her guilt. As she reached in her wardrobe, her arms felt weak and tired like soft new budding limbs of a tree that were still green and growing. Her knees were aching and her legs were stiff, her calve muscles crying out to her as she rose on tip-toe to pull a garment from the rack. She tiredly chose a pale cream cotton dress with gold and black lattice work on the hem and sleeves. Dully, she noted that this dress did not come from her own small trunks, but from the man who had stained the dress at her feet.

He was beginning to seep in everywhere. In her ship. In her thoughts. Even in the very clothes she wore. She began the arduous task of working her way into the gown when she realised the blood upon her former attire had inked its way through her dress and chemise and upon her body.

She heaved a sigh.

She would need a bath.

Moving laxly across her room in her chemise and corset, leaving the new dress lying on the floor next to the old, she opened her door. She peeked her head outside while being mindful of her nakedness. Waiting for a black mage to appear, she called out to the first one that was moving down the hall. "Pardon me, but can you quickly draw me up a bath? " The scarecrow-like man blinked and in recognition, he said her name.

"Lady Hilda."

She tiredly tried to filter in her mind about the black mages being sentient creatures when her memories of her brief encounter with Mr. 172 came flooding back.

"Atlus!" She said surprisingly in her tired voice, her eyes slightly wide. Her mood lifted slightly as the little man beamed at her.

He was immensely animated and she had a feeling that it wasn't from their brief encounter. Did her know about her actions from just a few hours before? And how would he feel about such a thing?

She opened the door and stood aside as he entered, moving toward her bronze bath basin in the room.

"Has something happened? ", she asked cautiously, putting her arms around herself to shield her nakedness. Although she doubted black mages were partial to the way of physical modesty, she couldn't shake off years of mannerisms ingrained into her being. The little man bent over the basin, peering into it, almost as if he were looking for something, having to stand on tip-toe.

"Yes!" He said excitedly as he lifted himself back up and spayed his fingers above the tub. "Black mages!" Water began to trickle from his fingertips into the basin, starting as a slow trickle and then following is a tidal rush, the tub filled in seconds. He bent down to the floor, working his hand underneath, casting a Fira spell to heat the water.

"What about black mages? " _Were there not a few dozen walking among the ship?_

"The master has found more. In the forest. "It almost seemed as if he wasn't paying much attention to her, being preoccupied with his thoughts and her bath.

"Do they not normally come from the forest?" She new nothing about these little men other than being puppets to a silver mage. Was that what Kuja had found peculiar enough to explore yesterday? Was he trying to acquire more of these creatures as his servants?

"We are only ever created by the master. "

This came as a surprise. "Created? As in man-made? " This elicited a firm nod from him as he moved away from the tub, finished with his work. He turned to her, his eyes wide and honest.

"That is how it has always been. We're made. That's why it's strange and exciting to see black mages living alone. "

"You've seen them?"

"Well…no. But that is what Number 103 had said. "

Something suddenly fell into place, "Is that why you're numbered?!"

"We are named as we are made. "

His answer was so simple, so matter of fact. Slowly, she was starting to feel horrified, a choking sensation threatening to strangle her throat. What did it mean to be made and not born?

"Lady…are you okay?"

"How..._who _made you?"

He blinked in confusion. "The master." What was obvious to him had not been to her. "He makes us in batches."

His explanation almost sounded as if Kuja were merely baking cookies, constructing gingerbread men. Her previous thought of naming the black mage after a pastry didn't seem so ill-fitting anymore, yet she doubted what Kuja did was far from simple cooking.

"In batches?"

"We come in hundreds. Number 103 says the first batch is in the forest."

"Why are you not all together?" He shrugged at this, having no answer to supply. He was obviously becoming uncomfortable with her growing distress, wringing his hands within his big gloves. His previous excitement was long gone.

"Well…your bath is ready now. "

He moved quietly out the room, shutting the door and leaving her to her thoughts. She still had so many more questions but she needed time to filter through the information she had now.

Regent Cid Fabool concentrated on his reflection in the mirror, working to tie his cape into a simple bow, his arms growing tired with the effort. After an arduous effort and a few more tries, he smiled at himself in the looking glass in success. Turning to his chief engineer, he asked, "How do I look?"

"…You look awful, sir. " She replied helplessly, sympathy undisguised within her voice.

"Yes, you do indeed look awful. " Looking to Artania in anger, Cid's frustration grew at the bored expression plastered on the man's face.

Looking to the mirror once more, he assessed that an oglop by nature was ugly. An oglop in a cape was just silly and even a little sad. Shaking his head, he hopped away from his reflection and toward a seat. Once he arrived, he mentally growled at the fact that his engineer had equipped the chair with a make-shift booster seat. He didn't thank her.

It was not unknown to the city of Lindblum why Lady Fabool had left. Although her departure had caused much surprise in the way of her unusual actions, her reason was not. However, the state in which she left her husband was only known to a few. And Cid was beginning to panic.

At first he had been outraged. Not only had she taken his most prized and newly developed airship, but she had left him in the form of an oglop with no hint at a cure. After a few days, his anger had cooled to regret. Yet as the weeks began to pass, his regret had swiftly turned to worry. Not only was he enslaved within this body, but his wife was missing. Not sign across the continent of his airship or his wife, according to his informants. And now as months had passed, he feared the worst.

Rumours were flying across Lindblum and Alexandria about the Regents reclusive state and his missing wife. Hilda was not only a state figure but also his Chief Advisor. Her council was amiss within the Lindblum city and the people as well were beginning to worry.

In the beginning he had cursed her name every chance he was reminded his capacities yet now he silently whispered her name in the dark, praying for her safety and her return. And it was his fault. And everyone knew it.

His youthful foolishness had caused Hilda to become cold and judgemental with time. Once he had a young and mischievous girl of a wife who was quick with a witty joke. Now he had a calculative and clever woman who could see through him with eyes like a dagger, cutting through cold water. Hilda was still ever beautiful but her smiles were for public sake and rarely held for him.

At sixteen, her eyes held something akin to wonder and absolute love, something which made Cid feel very needed. He gave a sad half-smile at the thought. He felt like he could do anything at the time. For anyone to place so much feeling for him made him feel very suited to being Regent and to being a good husband.

However his thoughtlessness at his flirting and his youthful fondness of the drink got the better of him. A face that once held so much respect soon turned to disappointment. He grew angry. Angry at the sadness and the broken expectations that showed so clearly in her eyes that he felt betrayed. Betrayed that she had taken something so wonderful away from him. That she no longer loved him. And so his actions were no longer mistakes but intended affairs. After every one, after every woman he soon despaired, disappointed in not finding the ardour and feelings he once saw within his wife. He even used them at times to maliciously hurt his wife in retaliation for what she took from him.

It wasn't until recently that he regretted his actions. She was never at fault as he had selfishly accused. And even more so, his newly found discovery only added to his guilt. Assessing over the last years of their marriage, he understood that he had never truly lost his wife's love. In the way she had kept to his bedside on his ill days or the manner in which she would scroll small notes upon his airship blueprints and templates to remind him of scheduled meetings or duties. Or how she would place her hand upon his head and look into his eyes with worry when he would contract a headache. No, even if her affection was absent, her love was still there. It was merely buried within years of hurt and a bruised heart.

And he was sorry.

So very sorry.

"Sir? Minister Artania is speaking to you."

He shook himself from his heavy thoughts and turned to his minister. "You were saying?"

Artania was looking at him intently, a serious expression etched delicately upon his aging face, "All enquires for an Alexandrian visit have been denied and the Queen not only refuses our own invitation but had demanded limited access to the Princess. I assume all our letters to Princess Garnet have also been intercepted."

Cid mulled over this, his confusion over the Queens sudden desired isolation growing. Much like his worry over his wife, he was beginning to fear for his niece. After the death of the King, the distressed queen had begun to act irregularly. He wondered not only what was happening inside the palace walls but also the implications that the Queen's actions might have on the Princess.

"Schedule a meeting with Baku of Tantalus. If it is necessary, than we might need to take more affective measures in the near future. "

"He's going to laugh at you, sir. "

He was slightly aware that a twitch was occurring near his right eye. Glaring at his engineer he had an uncontrollable urge to un-gentlemanly slap her upside the head. However, as an oglop, he was horribly incapable of taking on such a feat.

"Thank you ever so much for pointing that out. "

"You're welcome, sir. "

Looking through his desk, he intensely studied all papers and objects that he could perhaps recognize as being disturbed. He was most interested in what Hilda had possibly come across and his eyes were observant enough to pick up and trace of quick filing and hastily moved letters. He assessed she was quick to scan, not lingering on anything too long, desiring something of more importance.

After acknowledging all was in order, he closed the drawer and made to turn before he noticed a small slip of white at the corner of his eye. Looking down at the floor, there was a letter peaking under the bottom of the desk. Leaning down to pick it up, the man's surprise and confusion quickly turned to wry amusement at the contents of the letter, the small crinkled left to the side testament enough that the Lady had not only viewed the contents of the letter but had most likely read the note in its entirety. It was surely something worth teasing her about.

He chuckled out loud to himself, his eyes roaming over the ceiling as he thought about what might have floated within her mind during her reading?

Had she imagined him?

Had she been disgusted?

Or perhaps intrigued?

He gave another small laughed and felt he needed to make it a point of his discovery to her tonight. The Lady's reactions would surely prove most interesting. He ran his fingers upon his lips slowly, the irritation from earlier long gone.

Authors Note: Hope you enjoyed this chapter.


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: Don't own it.

A/N: Big thanks to Lucrecia LeVrai once again for her beta-ing efforts and her attention to detail to correct my many mistakes. I also want to thank/curse Lucrecia for informing me of Enzai: Falsely Accused. I should be getting it in the mail the next few days. And I assume that if you're reading this fic, you already read Unreachable and if you don't, you're insane.

Thanks to Stephy as well for keeping us with this story for so long, it touched me to know you still read it.

And thanks to my readers and reviewers for putting it with my sad self.

When I Faltered: Chapter Eight

Sable-Fahndu

The laughter emitting from the floor was loud and boisterous. His left eye was doing that _thing _again. He could feel it twitching erratically, his teeth beginning to grind against each other of their own volition. He began tapping his small digits on his chair, waiting for the man to be finished.

"I told you sir," his chief engineer said quite tragically, trace amounts of sympathy evident in her voice. Again, he felt the uncontrollable urge to harm her.

Cid sighed in a dramatic parody of his suffering. It was only in her nature to be blunt. It was actually one of the qualities he had favored most about her, however now it was quickly turning into an undesirable trait. Baku began coughing, the last of his laughter dying out, despite the humor still left in his eyes.

"So, she finally had enough, did she?" It wasn't a question. It was apparent to Cid that he would get no sympathy from him despite the good nature of the man. Baku swiped at tears still tugging at the corner of his eyes from his laughing session, his stomach cramping quickly.

"So, where'd she go?" Cid was silent, cringing at the question that had been plaguing him for weeks on end.

"Well…," Baku announced, his good mood quickly fading, his brows drawing together in concern, "You want my boys to go scouting?"

Cid sighed again, feeling completely useless and desperate.

"No, I need another favor from you, something much more urgent."

Baku paused at this, his stout figure tensed and enquiring, "More impor'ant than finding your wife and settin' you strait?"

"Don't misunderstand. Lindblum is in a perilous manner with the Regents' current state and the Chief Advisor missing," the Prime Minister intervened, "however, our access to Alexandria and the Princess in particular have been cut off and we have information that has led us to believe that Queen Brahne has been trading with a weapons dealer, for what purpose, we do not know. You are partial to the Queens' behavior since the death of the king, Baku. All here know of the erratic state she has been in as of late and our greatest concern is for Princess Garnet. With no communication, we can only speculate as to her well being."

Baku jammed his hands in his pockets, his eyebrows drawing together, "So, you want me to sneak in a letter? Work back and forth as correspondence?"

Artania's sharp eyes narrowed and his wise mouth quipped into a bitter grin, "No. We want you to kidnap her."

Baku suddenly had a choking fit, Cid quiet and thoughtful as he watched his old friend, praying silently for the man's cooperation.

When the stout man gained back his bearings, he looked to Cid with a concerned expression, "You want me to sneak into Alexandria and kidnap Garnet. Am I getting this right?" Cid felt like sighing again. However, he looked to his long time friend earnestly, trying to convey his need and trust as much as his limited expressions allowed. "I wouldn't ask this lightly. And I wouldn't ask this of just anyone. I fear for my wife however, I also fear for my niece. The kingdom of Alexandria takes precedence over my own dilemma. If this matter can be settled, it would be only then that I could focus better upon the wellbeing of my Chief Advisor."

Baku's face softened as much as his hard face allowed him to. "Feelin' really guilty about it, aren't you? She's probably fine, just needs a bit more time to blow off some steam." A heavy silence ensued, doubt following heavy in the air. Hilda was not prone to tantrums and above all, she would be the first to understand her place within the Regency and how vital her input was to the working and wellbeing of Lindblum. Her long absence could not bode well.

"Well, when should I start begging the good 'ol Queen to not off my head?" Before panic had the chance to take over, a flood of relief overcame Cid as he focused on Baku. There was an audible exhalation of breath from his chief engineer.

"As soon as possible. The longer we wait, the less chance we have of recovering the Princess and discovering what's amiss."

"That's fine and dandy, but what if I do the deed and come to find out, nothin's wrong, the Queen is just being a bitch hermit?"

A loud choking noise came from Artania and the chief engineer struggled to withhold a laugh. Cid frowned at Baku yet didn't feel the need to reprimand him for his forwardness and insult to Her Majesty. "I'm willing to take that risk. Be quick and try your best to be sly about it. I know how outlandish your troupe likes to be." He said the last bit with dripping sarcasm.

"Nothing wrong with my boys that a good fist can't handle," his lips twisting into a joking nature. He gave a lazy wave and headed out the door.

***

Hilda sank into her bath basin, the steam of the water immediately creating a fine sheen of perspiration on her brow. Wincing, she could feel the heat working its way into her skin, causing her sore muscles to cry out in pain. She knew a long soak would be in order to properly work out the kinks in her neck, shoulders, and limbs. Her mind was racing and her body was aching. A headache was rapidly forming and she was filling slightly ill from not eating. Rather than continue to ponder upon her newly discovered information, she thought it best to just shut down and rest.

She felt strongly that afterwards she would be better apt to analyzing these new details. Her mind was swimming and she had the haunting feeling that this was just the beginning.

She submerged herself completely underneath the water and held her breath as she let the heat work through her hair and head. Her temple was pulsing, causing her to lightly place her fingers along the side of her head and edge out the mental pain with a small Cure. The pain ebbed away but she gagged, making her sit up as she coughed, water having flooded her throat. Self-inflicted healing magic always invaded the senses but the _taste _was something she had never managed to overcome despite her naturally strong constitution. She had always likened it to chewing on a stick of chalk. When her lungs stopped burning, she sat back, closing her eyes and leaning her head against the rim of the bath basin.

She needed to sleep. A long journey of a nap to wipe away the nightmare. She may not have missed her husband but she did miss her home. She thought of what it would be like if she were in her quarters now, lying on her floor in front of a fire, propped up with cushions, feeling safe and relaxed as Tessa obligingly brushed her hair while she sipped at her tea. She would smell the lavender from her drink and the vanilla from her candles, warm and lax, her eyelids sinking as she began to doze off.

She felt chilled and woke to her teeth chattering. She grasped the sides of her tub as she lifted herself out, groggy as she realized she had fallen asleep in the tub, her water now cold. Her fingers and toes were beyond wrinkled but she didn't have the mind to care. Lazily drifting away from the bath, she shuffled to her bed, drying herself without any real effort before she slipped naked under her covers, her mannerisms long gone due to her fatigue. Turning in her soft blankets, she exhaled deeply as if sighing away the vestiges of her very life, sleep getting the better of her as everything turned black.

Cid Fabool could stake claim to many impressive feats, Kuja mused. His previous mind of the man had merely been designated to the assigned role of Regent of Lindblum which had never bode well with the mage given to his personal dealings with the Queen of Alexandria. However, the more he learned about him, the more intrigued he was. Lindblum in itself was ever Industrial, a far contrast to the prim-rose aesthetics of Alexandria. For what he thought was lack of taste and grace he realized now was modern function and progression. The more he learned of the Regent, the more he understood how well the city symbolized the man and what he represented.

When Kuja had first laid eyes on the Hilda Guarde, there was no doubt about its constructor. The speed was impressive and the shape and bend of the machine was gleaming elegance, boasting of a myriad of colors found within the spectrum of a desperate dusk, the dying rays a testament to its glory.

It was only appropriate that he should have it, Kuja mused.

Although Cid's ship was no comparison to the advanced technology developed in Terra, the man was well before his time. And he found it remarkable that Cid not only had the stamina to man the city but also work on his advanced ships, being the driving force behind the technology that could launch Gaia into a new era of development. Yet he was also privy to the great amount of aid the Regent received from his extraordinarily clever and sensible Chief Advisor as well as the notoriously intelligent and manipulative Prime Minister.

When he had first learned that the Regent had instated his wife as Chief Advisor on his council, he had thought the sentiment wasted, yet now knowing the woman personally, he understood that there were no tender feelings involved in the decision. Hilda Fabool had a mind to be reckoned with accompanied by style and elegance that made her a lady of substance and grace, as well as power. Another credit to the man. The Regent's wife was one of the very few individuals that Kuja had come across that had not only interested him but piqued his curiosity. She embraced femininity while employing her power as a formidable politician. He found it highly amusing that she had had been silently suffering for years under the negligence of her husband. This discovery brought him back to the Regent once more, wondering about what kind of man Cid Fabool was, the Regent, the Engineer, the husband of Hilda Fabool; a man who could acquire a woman of such rarity and ensnare her so that she remained along his side despite his indiscretions. It was a story he would very much like to hear.

_Provided that she didn__'t have another crying session._

Kuja concluded that he had seen more from Hilda in a few weeks than her husband most likely had seen in the years of their marriage. It was most probable that Cid had only ever seen the dedicated advisor and dutiful wife whereas Kuja had also seen her fill the rolls of the complacent captive, the tearfully scorned woman, and most recently, the dangerous adversary.

She was beginning to sound like a character out of one of his plays.

And he so loved theatre.

Going back to his earlier musings, he was more than wanting to meet Cid Fabool, to asses and determine what kind of man he was, intrigued on speculation and beyond curious.

_The only problem is that no one has been able to acquire __an audience with him for weeks._

It was almost as if the disappearance of his wife had made him a recluse.

At this thought, he paused, his eyes widening slightly and his shoulders tensing.

The two events occurred as if simultaneously. His expressions settled. A small, halfhearted, and thoughtful smile twitched at the side of his mouth.

He exhaled and looked out the small window in his room, the beams of light coming through the tiny opening catching his hair and almost bouncing off the silver sheen in retaliation. He absently pulled at the feathers at his crown, musing at the rumpled state of them after his long sleep. He thought it ironic that what all of the Alexandrian Court considered a play at fashion was what Garland had claimed was a defective flaw in his original Genome schematic. He dismissed any thoughts of science, prototypes, and technology from his mind.

It was well afternoon and his food was still amiss. He dressed and headed out, feeling physically and mentally ravenous.

***

She woke up feeling groggy and uncomfortably damp. Walking to the mirror, she began to poke beneath her eyes, worry working into her features at the dark circles beginning to form. She began to brush out her hair, the strands twisting and turning into full yet unruly curls, bouncing back into unmanageable places despite her constant strokes in an attempt to tame it. She blew out a huff of air, knowing it was useless sense she hadn't brushed right after her bath. On a stint of rarity, she left it down and moved to her wardrobe. She pulled out something simply, teaming with gold and pale pink. She sighed, beginning to feel that all her clothes looked the same.

_Didn__'t I just wear this the other day?_

Looking at the gown, she suddenly couldn't remember whether she had ever really worn the gown before to begin with. Not a stitch of lace called out to her. She shook her head, pulling the pieces over her head and situating the fabric into its proper place as she began to tie and latch the garments. She left the corset, feeling lax and light, her feet fitted into slippers rather than hard shoes. Walking out on the deck she was surprised to see Kuja eating heartily, his body facing her, yet his head turned to the side as he gazed out into the distance, chewing thoughtfully with a fork in one hand and a knife in the other. He had had a table brought out and it was littered with dishes covered in fruit, sweet meats and warm breads. She tilted her head to the side as she studied him, knowing that it was a rare moment that she could view him unaware. He looked… happy. She found it strange and unsettling as she realized she had never seen him display the emotion before.

Kuja teased, joked, and gossiped, but it was never done in a nice, if polite, manner. Looking at him now, he seemed almost childlike as he looked to the distance, his eyes smoothed of emotion, his mouth working in an optimistic manner as he chewed his food. She instantly felt drawn to him, wanting to ask him things, listen to his voice, touch his hair. She realized that this must be how he had managed to work his way into the Alexandrian Court and the Queens good graces, for what purpose, she didn't know. He was a manipulator that could convey so many different qualities that he could be whatever he needed to be to get what he wanted. She tried to harden herself from her natural pull to him, a frown etching across her brows. Almost as if he sensed the change in her mood, he turned to her, his expression changing from one to awareness, to an open welcome.

"Hello Lady!" He sounded warm and inviting. Yet she noticed the change in his eyes and knew better than to be fooled by any false sense of security that he might have tried to offer. He gestured to the other chair at his table and she walked forward, sitting down delicately. Looking to the food, her stomach turned violently, and she declined the offer of steaming hot rolls as he cordially held them out to her. Returning to his plate, a large smile plastered on his face, he looked to her as he cut through his meat, his eyes sly and amused as he looked to her lazy state of dress.

"How is your husband, Lady?"

Hilda stiffened at this, cursing herself at her mistake in reaction as he had clearly seen the gesture, a small laugh working its way through his throat.

"How should I know? I've been with you all along, have I not?"

Looking back up from his plate again, his head not completely elevated, his eyes told her that he wasn't biting. His smile was turned at one side and he gazed at her as if she were a child being caught in a lie.

"I've forgotten about your minor skills as a red mage. What was it? Have you made him mute? Disfigured? Dead?"

He laughed at that one, shaking his mane of silver hair, "That's reaching. So, what _did _you do, my lady, because this seems to be getting better and better by the moment, and don't disappoint," he emphasized, pointing his fork at her.

Her anger was boiling; however her face was devoid of emotion. She picked up a glass of water, her stomach becoming unsettled at the thought of wine, and she drank quietly, her eyes looking off and away from him.

"Come on," he coaxed, his voice no longer teasing but still full of optimism, "there's no point in trying to protect him. Whatever you've done, I know he is incapable of enacting his duties. No one has seen the man since your tantrum." She still said nothing, his grin becoming wider. His attention returned to his food as they sat in silence for the remainder of the meal.

"If you're starving yourself on purpose then I'll let you know it's an awful way to go," he sat back, one arm crossed over his lap as he brought a strawberry to his lips.

"You speak as if you've seen it done."

A wolfish grin flashed across his face.

She paled slightly.

He reached over, plucking another strawberry, dipping it into cream, and bringing it dangerously close to her lips. His smile was teasing. She took it from his hand, refusing to be baited, and began to chew delicately despite the protest from her stomach.

"If anything, tell me a long story. I think I've more than earned it."

He said the last part with what sounded like a pout before engulfing the whole of the berry within his mouth. She folded her hands in her lap, sighing wearily.

"I'm not a storyteller Kuja…"

"Tell me about how you met the Regent."

This surprised her. In such a story, she couldn't fathom how the man could garner any form of useful information from her. She assumed that it must be simply for amusement's sake.

"We'll reach Condie Petie at sunset. Until then, tell me how you met Cid."

She looked around, gauging that it was well into the afternoon, calculating that sunset would be within only a handful of hours. She leaned back into her chair, thinking back to her younger days when she had first met her husband.

"I was fifteen. He was twenty-five," she began, knowing no other place to start. Looking to the mage across from her, she saw him visibly relax, his shoulders leaning back into his chair, his own hands folded into his lap as well, obviously settling in for a long tale. She didn't believe she had ever seen him so comfortable before. His face was construed into a lazy smile, his eyes full of interest as he waited for her to go on.

"My mother had died while giving birth," she turned her palm upward and gestured to herself, "I was raised by my father and my mother's sister. My father was a professor and board member at the university. He was my benefactor in my knowledge of history and politics. My aunt was an educator at an elocution school, despite not being an active socialite.

I was attending the university with a advancement at my father's request. Cid had only been Regent for two years, yet his love for airship technology was already notorious. He was interested in expanding the engineering wing of the university and had invited the board members of the school to a social in order discuss the matter.

Naturally, my father had insisted that my aunt and I go as well. My cousin Lavinia was visiting during that time, so she had come along."

Hilda recalled stepping into the ball room of the establishment, her breath catching in her throat. She and her cousin had stopped mid-step, taking in the array of colors, glass, marble, and crystal. The room was washed in dark red and gold, curtains dripping like liquid over marble columns, large glass windows were thrown open to reveal deep balconies that reached out into the dark night sky, chandeliers reaching down with willow-like branches in a vain hope to touch the spectators below. At the gruff grunt of Hilda's father behind them, his sister-in-law's arm intertwined with his own. The two girls had jumped as if startled and moved ahead.

"I had spent the night arguing with a fellow student. We were discussing Treno laws… or lack thereof, in which his solutions were purely radical. Frustrated, I excused myself to the powder room. On my way back I had made a wrong turn and had gotten lost. In one of the isolated halls, I saw the Regent for the first time. He was sharing kisses with my cousin Lavinia."

Enjoying this turn of events, Kuja leaned forward on his elbows, curiosity clearly written across his face. Her lips twisted at this.

"I turned immediately in the opposite direction, lest they spotted me. Thoroughly embarrassed and surprised, I was relieved the find the ballroom once more. I was confused whether I should tell my father or not, but it wasn't long after that we had left. Lavinia had told me everything, every detail later that night before bed, convinced that what had been a few simple kisses would surely turn into a great love affair, never knowing that I had seen her. I thought it all silly and told her rightly so."

Lavinia had laughed at her then, pointing at her in her nightdress, "And what do you know of romance? Your idea of love is discussing feudal Burmecian war tactics!"

She had kept her own notions of romance to herself, knowing Lavinia would never understand her point of view.

"We were invited once more to another social hosted by the Regent. The funding was to be discussed for the new wing of the university, yet Lavinia had taken the invitation to mean Cid was exclusively interested in her."

Hilda raised her eyes in thought then, "I don't think he even remembered her name then."

Kuja couldn't help but burst out into laughter, the tragedy of the situation nothing but humorous.

Hilda smiled too, sharing in the joke.

She was sitting at a table then, her feet pinching in her new shoes. She was sipping at her drink while taking a break from dancing, enjoying the sights, sounds, and smells of the room, making mental photos for her to review later that night when she as alone in her room.

"I've been wondering what you've been thinking about all night."

Startled, she quickly turned her head, surprised etched over her eyes as they met the Regents.

"What?"

He sat down next to her at the empty table, a large, warm smile slanted across his face, "Every time I look over, you seem to be knee deep in some thought or another. Is something troubling you?"

Hilda looked to the dancing crowd, surprised that no one seemed to notice the two alone at the table. Turning back to him, she properly assessed him for the first time. He was regal in a young and aloof manner, charismatic and curious. His smile only widened as he raised one eyebrow, waiting for her to speak.

"Nothing is wrong. I was just thinking."

This was obvious and he inclined his head toward her, wanting her to go on,

"I have a paper due at the university tomorrow. I have been researching to suggest that culture defines language with interest in Burmecian tongue." She almost kicked herself, knowing this was not a proper subject for a social function. Yet Cid did not seem disinterested or confused.

"It's strange to find anyone interested in Burmecia."

She had always had particular interest in Burmecia, something that had caused several snickers in her direction in the university. Her professors merely dismissed it as youthful fancy.

"But intriguing none the less." She blinked at this, causing him to give a small chuckle. "Cid," he simply said, holding out his hand. It was evident who he was and he made no pretense that he thought she was unaware. She was amused that he held his hand out in an offering of a shake, opting to treat her like a fellow man rather than a lady. She in turn clasped her hand in his, giving a firm, hard shake, which cause his eyebrow to raise again and a loud laugh to shake his body.

"Hilda Garrison."

His eyes widened at this. She tried to take her hand back but his grip tightened, refusing to let go, "A somewhat fitting name. Why is it that I feel any conversation with you would be nothing short of a battle?"

She frowned as this, ripping her hand away with success. This didn't tear the smile off of his face, "I meant in wits," he said slyly.

Feeling this was an amicable compliment, she smiled, charmed despite herself.

"Not to be cliché, by why are you here sitting alone?"

"My feet, sir." She gestured toward the dance floor.

"That's too bad. I've only had you in mind all night."

Before she could think about what she was doing, she rolled her eyes. He laughed again, clearly amused that his cheesy slide had not worked.

He scooted his chair closer to her, leaning over and speaking conspiratorially as if he was letting her in on a very private secret, "How long are your skirts, lady?"

Before she had the chance to stand up, he wrapped his hand around her arm, keeping her in place.

"Do they cover your feet?"

"W-what?"

"Do they cover your feet, lady?"

She looked down as if she could see underneath the tablecloth, "Yes… they do. But why-"

"Would you mind terribly to dance with me if you took off your shoes and placed your feet on mine?"

Something inside her was fluttering in her stomach. Such a gesture reminded her of when she used to dance with her father when she was a child.

"A bit scandalous, huh?," he looked at her expectantly, his head almost touching hers. She nodded dumbly, overtaken by his charm, and very much wanting to dance with him.

"Leave your shoes under the table so afterwards you can return and put them back on with no one knowing."

She kicked them off, almost sighing audibly at the relief it gave her to be free of their restraints. Standing up, he grasped her hand and helped her from her chair, moving her toward the floor.

They were on the edge of the dance floor when he stopped, jutting his chin out in a gesture for her to step on his boots so no one would see her feet as they danced. Stepping up, she felt like a child once more, her feet small in comparison to his large boots. Even so, she was still a head shorter than him.

He chuckled, delighted in how small she was, "You looked taller sitting down!"

"I'm only fifteen, sir. I still have time to grow."

He eyes widened at the admission, something looking like a blush working up his cheeks, "I had the impression you were a little older."

It was her that smiled coyly this time, "I'm often told that."

"Then I shall call you the Little Woman," he jested lightly, eliciting a small gasp from her as he took a firm hold on her waist and drew her closer. He began slowly, working his feet in a manner that would steady her balance, although she was sure with his tight grasp she wouldn't fall.

When he felt her lean into him whenever he turned, he felt secure that he could pick up the pace.

"If you are only fifteen, then how is it possible you're already studying at the university?"

She noted that his eyes were a peculiar shade of cinnamon that she had never come across before, "My father is Professor Garrison. He is on the board of directors as well." Understanding flooded his eyes and he raised his eyes to the ceiling in order to remember which instructor she was referring to.

"Why were you not here at my last social then," he said, referring to the invitation her father had received in concern about the engineering wing.

"I was here." A smile was working across her face. The Regent was very apparent in his flighty attitude toward the opposite sex.

His brows knit together, obviously trying to place her and failing miserably.

"It's alright, sir, you wouldn't have noticed me. You were indulging yourself intimately with my cousin."

He stopped then, embarrassment washing over his features like a tide, his face taking on a tacky shade of red. The music had also stopped in which she stepped down, ready to take her leave.

She couldn't help it. She laughed out loud, causing a few heads to turn in their direction.

Silently, he escorted her back to her table, keeping a bit of distance between the two. Sitting down, she brought her feet underneath the cloth and began to put her shoes back in place.

"I'm not what they say I am." He said it hastily but quietly. He looked at her then with a serious expression on his face, "Not completely." She turned her head to the side, studying him quizzically, not knowing how to analyze what he said.

"I'm not judging you," she spoke with a smile, wanting to assure him that she didn't think ill of him, even though she found him to be a bit lecherous.

She raised her hand for another shake, amusement tickling the corner of her eyes. He joined in, smiling once more and grasping her hand, giving it a hard shake.

"Good luck with your research, Little Woman."

Before she could reply, her father came into view, a quizzical look given to Cid, "Hilda, are you ready to go?"

Standing, she gave a small nod to the Regent, intertwining her arm with her fathers. Cid nodded in turn and bid goodbye to the professor.

"I take it your father wasn't very fond of the Regent's reputation either?" Kuja was resting his head on one of his fisted hands.

"That and the fact that Lavinia refused to speak to me afterwards. It put a strain on the household and she was asked to leave."

"Naturally," Kuja shrugged elegantly, blinking lazily with the gesture as he spoke.

"I had assumed I wouldn't see him ever again. My father's interaction with him was minimal and I was only fifteen."

Kuja began tapping his lips with his index finger, "How did he manage to retain contact?"

Hilda took a sip of water, her stomach beginning to settle from its earlier illness, "It was two months before I heard from him again. I received a parcel by courier. A gift."

She couldn't help but smile at the memory.

"And how original was the dear Regent?"

His teasing didn't faze her in the slightest, "A Burmecian spearhead."

Kuja looked as if he had swallowed something sour. She laughed out loud, caught off guard by his childish antics.

"You're really head over heels for those disgusting rats!"

She laughed again, shaking her head with it, "It was more in the interest of the unknown. Before Cid, Burmecia was isolated in the ways of trading and commerce. It was once a rare site to see a Burmecian in Alexandria or Lindblum before his reign."

"He should never have meddled to begin with," he muttered, "Well, I won't assume he gave you a dreadful spearhead, making you rush into his arms agreeing to marry him."

"No, nothing that absurd. I only knew it was from him because it was delivered by royal courier. He had not even sent a note along with the parcel. My aunt had thought it strange and abnormal, thinking the Regent sent it as a joke."

"What did your father think?"

"He knew otherwise. He was… surprised. It was a thoughtful token, if anything. But it wasn't romantic. I think that's what surprised my father."

"Of course it was romantic! What better way to woo a lady that with a thoughtful gift that only she would appreciate?"

Hilda snorted at this, "Despite my curiosity, I assure you that I can never be 'wooed' with weaponry. It was an offer of friendship. I was too young and his association with my cousin, no matter how small, would not have easily gone amiss."

"You can't say he was only interested in friendship," Kuja prompted coyly, a mischievous smile on lips.

"No, it would have been silly to believe he didn't have a further goal." She shrugged, "He sent several requests for me afterwards, but my father discouraged all of them. He was wary of the Regents reputation and believed myself level-headed enough to feel the same."

"And yet you were not."

"At first I was," she smirked at this.

"I didn't see Cid again until my father was invited to another social along with the rest of the board members of the university. It had been almost two months sense the Regents last letter. My aunt had taken ill so my father was inclined to take me in her place."

"And did the charming Cid intercept again to steal your little heart?"

Hilda snorted unladylike before she could stop herself.

"No, not at all. I almost thought he had forgotten about me, to my relief. I was in attendance with the other professors and dean yet Cid never strayed a single look at me. It was all business. Afterwards, I left for home with my father. I remembered how tired he looked and had asked if I should bring him some tea."

"Hilda, sit down," he said wearily. She began wondering if he was coming down with something. Maybe Aunt had passed her bout of flu.

Complying with her father's wishes, she sat, folding her hands into her lap. Waiting anxiously, he sat downed and sighed heavily, closing his eyes.

"Are you alright?"

He waved at her, opening his eyes and giving her one of his light smiles, trying to reassure her.

"I'm fine. I'm concerned however," he shook his head then, unbuttoning the top half of his stiff collar of his black coat, "You know that man intercepted me in the hallway alone."

Her eyes widened in alarm, taking a second to register who he was meaning. He saw understanding flash across her eyes and promptly continued, feeling no need to hesitate.

"He demanded to know why I wouldn't send you off to the castle. Tried to assure me that his intentions were innocent. Well, I swiftly told him where I thought he could shove his intentions and that I had no more inclination to paint your face and send you working on the streets much less let alone with him."

Hilda had swallowed in embarrassment, knowing her father was not known for hiding his displeasure behind frivolous words.

"I've never seen a man so red in the face that wasn't plowed under by the drink. His anger was practically steaming from the ears. I almost laughed."

He did laugh then.

"Well, he told me that I could take my comments and choke on them. Said he would have the guard here by the morrow to come get you if he had to. And this is what confused me, girl. I asked him why you? Of all the girls in Lindblum, what was so special about my Hilda and what was it that he wanted with you anyways.

'I want to sit with her and ask her everything about nothing.'

"I didn't think it was possible but that man managed to turn an even brighter shade of red when he said that. Well, what do you think?"

She blinked comically, trying to take it all in, not knowing what to make of the odd situation.

"Well?"

"…Why would he say something like that?"

Her father shrugged, "I asked him if he was funny in the head. Then I told him you would come by tomorrow. Tea and biscuits have you. See if you can rub off some of your sensibilities on him, get him to quit tinkering with those silly ships of his and run a city." He stood then, moving to the stairs to retire for the night.

"W-wait! Why?" It was the only coherent thing she could get out of her mouth.

He smiled, his blue eyes crinkled at the side with it, "I honestly don't know why. We'll… see what happens I guess."

She looked to Kuja, noting the frown creased on his forehead from concentration.

"I left after I finished classes at the university. I didn't know what to expect. When I arrived, I was told to wait outside a states room, that the Regent was held in council. I waited for two hours. I wasn't pleased."

As she was leaving, the doors had opened, the many men in attendance exiting. Before she could take two steps, however, Cid grasped her arm, spotting her immediately through the crowd, his grip firm.

"Don't leave," he implored hastily, a certain implication of excitement and desperation in his voice, "I'm sorry."

She felt silly all at once, knowing that his tardiness was beyond his control yet she couldn't shake the feeling that she had been slighted. She wasn't even clear on why she was there. Even though he was quickly forgiven without her words, her expression was far from passive.

Her frown deepened as she pointedly stared at his grasp on her arm. He quickly released it, putting his hands to his sides.

"Trade with Alexandria," he rushed out, pushing the words from his mouth almost at once, "they've raised import taxes and our annual budget is in decline as is." He looked troubled and she had the uncontrollable urge to want to ease his distress.

She smiled suddenly, interweaving her arm through his, catching him off guard.

"I was told I would be treated to tea?"

A small smile was working at the corner of his lips, creating a confusing warmth at the recesses of her stomach, "That is true. But at this point in the day, I think hemlock is in order."

She laughed out loud at this, surprised at the sound emitting from her throat. Looking up at him, he was smiling down at her from his impressive height with a mixture of amusement, curiosity, and something that hinted at wonder within his oculars.

Hilda was feeling parched once more, gesturing to the pot of tea at Kuja's side of the rounded table. Without comment, he obliged, his sleeves narrowly missing a untouched custard covered in whipped cream. Handing the cup to her, her looked to her expectantly as she sipped delicately, sitting back once more while slipping his hands within his sleeves.

"I visited once every three days. My visits usually ended in arguments, in which Cid would have a letter sent the very next day, either in compromise or an apology. We discussed life at court, my studies at the university, the daily council and grievances, a new turbine within an airship, chocolate trifles, anything and everything, really. I never understood Cid's love for airships. He would explain things to me when I prompted him to but I had always assumed that he would be much better suited to being an engineer rather than Regent of Lindblum.

After three months of visits to the castle, Cid had invited me into a council meeting. Although I was to be a silent audience, he told me he wanted to know my thoughts and opinion on the matter after the meeting was over. I was excited to say the least. Like my father, I was majoring in History and Politics at the university, so I was thrilled with the chance to be in the same atmosphere with real council men making tactical decisions for the entire city.

Anyhow, they were debating over the annual budget, Cid pushing pressure on funding for the engineering wing of the university. He wanted real-time development on actual airships from the students, hoping that in exchange for free supplies, he would receive free labor and write it off as an internship. The other council members, to say the least, were not impressed. Instead of airships, they were interested in fortifying the barricades of the city walls and adding more guards on duty. I found this all exciting and was listening keenly as they all began to shout.

I was _not _pleased, however, by the tart that had waltzed into the room serving cognac to the gentlemen and lewdly gesturing to the Regent in the process."

She remembered how Cid had the decency to look embarrassed during her display and shady departure. She also remembered how anger swept over her in one swift motion, crashing down and flooding her vision before she could even fully understand why she should have even cared.

She became still, picking up her simple glass of water as the rest of the men sipped their liquor, a quiet break interceding before they would pick up where they left off.

"Miss. Garrison, I am to understand that you have been spending a great deal of time these past few months with our Regent."

"That is true," she said deadbolt, setting her water down, her eyes sleekly narrowed, thoughts swirling about her head.

"Why is it do you think our Cid here is so invested into his ships rather than his city?"

Cid slammed his fist against the long rectangular table, "How dare you doubt my priorities?"

Hilda smirked, picking up her glass again as a thought came over her, "I am uncertain, my lord. Maybe it's to escape all the doxies he attracts through his daily interactions?"

The council member smirked in turn, feeling like he might have an ally in his opinion. She would later learn that his name was Garran and that he was in every way a snake.

"I assure you Miss. Garrison, it isn't something we encourage. Are there any more theories behind the Regents distracting hobbies?"

She had a sly answer but before she could speak it, she felt herself being roughly hauled out of her chair and dragged to the door of the states room. She tripped on her skirts, causing her to cry out, yet his grip on her jerked her up from falling, the doors thrown open as she was ejected into the hall.

"Just WHAT do you think you're doing?!" She looked up at him then, his face warped into a mask of rage and embarrassment. If he could, he would have spit fire. She glared at him up at, matching emotion for emotion and she internally tried to deny that she was hurt by what had transpired just a few moments ago.

"Unhand me!"

Instead, he took hold of her other arm as well and viciously shook her, "I don't need your help in ruining me! Those old sods in there have had it out for me sense the very beginning. What's the matter with you, I thought you would have been on _my _side?! _My _ally!"

She tried to shove away from him, yet her height and strength was diminutive in comparison to his own. Childishly, she kicked his shins. He visibly winced but his hold on her never loosened. Rather than explain her hurt and jealousy, which at the same time she felt misplaced because they were merely just friends, she side skirted the real issue warring with her and supplied another excuse in its place.

"You talk of budget decline, refuse to tax, and continue to waste efforts on airships. No one _needs _more airships, _Regent, _they need food, better housing, safety, and proper trade value! Anyone with but a brain would tell you that! If you continue on in this manner, you'll be Lindblum's ruin!"

She felt like gasping as soon as she had finished, not fully comprehending the scope of what she had just said. It was a matter she had always felt the need to voice, but never felt inclined that it was her place to do so. Yet her logical side reasoned with her that she was one of his people and he should hear what his people had to say. However, she also felt like a coward, allowing this information to slip by at one of her weak moments, when she was feeling jealous over some woman rather than feeling remotely patriotic and concerned about the city in which she resided in.

Many emotions flickered over Cid's face within in instant. He settled on one, anger, and released one arm while turning to leave, dragging her along by the other. Her arm was screaming at her in protest, knowing it was surely bruised already.

"Where are you taking me?!" she thought of the council members still waiting in the states room.

"Quiet!" he commanded, his voice harsh yet coming out as a whisper.

When they met a set of stairs, he all but lifted her up in order to cover more distance faster, unceremoniously dropping her and continuing on when they reached the top. He threw open a wooden latched door, swinging her in and letting go, turning to lock the door shut.

She had a moment to register that she was surrounded by airship models and templates before she focused back on Cid. He walked to a table, unrolling parchment and signaling for her come closer. Timidly she did, confused and curious all the same as to why he had brought her here.

"This is a blueprint I've been working on. I call them aircabs."

The schematics meant little to her but she was interested none the less.

"Aircab? I've never heard of such a thing."

He bitterly smirked at this, "No one has except for my engineers and volunteer students. It's been in development sense I've been Regent. We reckon another year, we can get them up and running."

He turned to her then, one hand on his hip, "Do you know what this would mean Hilda?"

"But… how are you going to get funding for another year? And to what purpose?"

He waved her concern away with his hand, leaning against the drawing table, "All my airship ventures are not funded by the treasury but by my own endeavors. I've been using my own allowances and although my accounts are nearly finished, I believe it will be well worth it in the end. Think of it Hilda. Aircabs will replace carriages throughout the city. I'll be replacing the traveling trade with something not only more efficient but an industry that will provide more jobs. People will be needed to run these things, man the controls, and work on the mechanics what have you. Civilians will not only reach their destination quicker and in comfort, but also have the security of safety from the streets. Time for travel will be eliminated, making more room for efficient industry. Let me explain an example.

"When someone has taken ill, they have to travel across the whole of the city and whether this is by carriage of foot depends on the money readily in their pocket. Let's be generous and say they have traveled by carriage. This can take up to anywhere between an hour to two. Upon arrival, they are made to wait to see the doctor in favor of those who have arrived before them. And those arriving afterwards will have to wait even further. However, say if these patients all arrive by aircab. The doctor is overloaded. He may have an apprentice but a daily inflow of patients of such magnitude will be too much. There will be need of more doctors, as we both know most people are discouraged from making the effort to visit simply because of the lack of attention they will receive due to the amount of people waiting for treatment. And with more doctors, more treatment can be encouraged simply because it's more readily available and with more speed. That is just one example of the many. And if everyone is using them, they would cost less than the prices demanded carriage passage. It would be revolutionary!

"I've wanted to be Regent as long as I can remember, Hilda. I love this city, I love its people. We have so much potential to become more than what we are but with the council fighting me tooth and nail along the way, it's becoming impossible for us to work on the beginning stages of developing this city into a truly functional state. Those fools are pressing on about wall structures to keep outsiders out while impressing the matter of aesthetics in comparison to Alexandria, complaining that the city looks too droll. Lindblum is not meant to be an isolated flower but an industrially advanced structure comprised of progressive commerce and inventions. I have ideas, girl, ideas that could launch us as a formidable power across this continent."

She was stunned and proud.

"I had no idea… Cid… Cid, that's brilliant!"

He coughed at this, not feeling up to flowering under the attention but appreciating the comment all the same, "You're one of the few people who seem to think so."

She was already imagining it, the cogs in her mind turning over.

"I know why you were angry. But you cannot allow your emotions to get the better of you in front of those rats. They will use it against you at every opportunity."

She sighed, feeling her jealousy overcome her once more yet knowing he was right.

"I was a fool. And it was ended long before I ever met you."

"Obviously not for her."

"She never acted accordingly before. I suspect it was only because _you _were there." A small smile turned at his lips.

"Why should that matter?"

"Because I'm head over heals for you, idiot! Anyone with eyes can see it!"

She felt her face reddened, trying to not take in the information in the manner in which she was.

_He wants me._

She had told herself often that she would have been a fool to ever fall for him and despite her efforts, she found herself more entrapped by the day.

"Why do you think I brought you here today? Do you think I just bring any girl into my political meetings? Let them sit prim and pretty for me while I yell my head off? I want to know what you think! I always want to know what you're thinking. I want your input, to see your calculating mind work as you weigh and balance all options in your hands. You're the most beautiful woman I have ever met. It boggles me how you can sit upright and elegant eating cakes while all by destroying my men on a chessboard all the while cleverly instructing me on how to properly conduct a raid. Do you understand how frustrating it is to know how young you are, to know that I can't have you, but to also _fear _what you're thinking, to want to be a better man that I actually am in order to offer you something equivalent of you in order for you to except me? To offer myself and more in my hand and hope you don't laugh in my face."

Her heart was beating so fast she couldn't breathe, "What are you saying?" she asked quietly, wanting just a little more.

"I want to marry you."

Before she could think it, it slipped through her lips, "But I'm still not of age."

He knocked over an empty ink bottle in frustration, allowing the glass to roll across the floor, "I know that. Believe me, I know that." He pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index finger.

"Then ask me again when I'm sixteen."

He turned quickly, the blood seeping from his face, "What?"

"Ask me again when I'm sixteen and I will say yes."

His large arms engulfed her and lifted her off the floor, gathering her close to him, his face in her hair.

"But don't think that allows you any amount of liberties in the mean time," she teased, her voice slightly muffled as it was pressed against his chest. He pulled her away to look into her eyes, his mouth grinning.

"Hilda?"

"Hmm?"

"Shut up."

He kissed her softly and almost innocently, but the feeling he was trying to hold back was almost tangible. It made her calm and excited all at once. She almost went completely limp in his arms, causing him to laugh. She had reached up then, her feet still dangling to give him a hard whap on the head, causing him to laugh even harder.

It was one of her most precious memories.

Unbidden, she felt the beginnings of tears prickling at the corners of her eyes, yet she blinked them away, placing the images in her mind in a box, trying to not allow emotion to overcome her.

Kuja looked to her thoughtfully, his head once again resting on his hand, his teasing manner gone.

"It almost sounds like a story book…but it's not."

She said nothing, suddenly feeling bare and exposed. Mages were slowly moving about the deck, silent about their work.

The ship began to slow in its speed and she suddenly felt her stomach begin to drop as she recognized that the ship was slowly declining in altitude.

"Oh. We're here," Kuja said, blinking out of his thoughts as he turned around in his chair to look ahead of them. The sun was sinking into the horizon and a small town could be seen in the distance. He stood then, working around the table to offer his hand, helping her up in turn.

She walked to the front of the ship, peering over to look ahead. Small lights twinkled in the small village, almost in a welcoming gesture. The silvery man stood next to her, his eyes assessing the small town as well.

Turning to her, he placed his hands on his hips, his hair slipping over a shoulder, "I've had a dress made with you in mind. You'll find it in your wardrobe. It will be the only dress you will wear," he said silkily, binding her with his subtle spell. She understood, knowing that when she reached into the large cabinet that she would be only drawn to the dress he had procured for her.

"You could have merely told me what it looked like. I'm sure I could have found it without much trouble."

He smiled, his canines showing, "Yes, but I want you to change into it now. It will be your wedding dress."

She tensed in alarm. Remembering the ceremony required at this Condie Petie to gain passage past the towns confines, she attempted to calm her nerves.

"Surely this can wait tomorrow, can it not?"

He shrugged, the gesture aloof while remaining elegant, his hands placed behind his back, "I'm sure it can. However, I would like to get this over and done with. Time is a bit pressing at the moment."

He made a "shooing" gesture, turning away from her.

She walked away, her heart lodged in her throat, her palms itching.

She could feel another headache coming on.


End file.
